Future's Fate
by Iam-themask
Summary: Is time travel real? Emma didn't think so until that unforgettable Halloween night that ends her up with the crazed Phantom of the opera. A new Patron comes into play after Emma goes out for a day in Paris. Will it be another dangerous trio?
1. The night at the Opera

" Emmaline my dear, its almost seven o'clock, you'd better hurry and get dressed into your costume. I'm sure you'll probably be late."

Emma sneered at her mothers words as she laced a black velvet choker to her thin pale neck. Stray black hairs frolicked as the cool autumn wind came through the gaping window. It sent shivers throughout her body. As the clock came steadily to seven, Emma slipped into her beautiful pink dress. It was made from satin and had lace around the frontal area, on the sleeves and at the bottom trim. The neck extended well down the front of her chest, with an under-lining fabric which had cris-crossing ribbon down the center. The whole dress in general was an hour glass shaped. The poor girl was squeezed into the beautiful dress by force and shifted uncomfortably. She pulled her hair half way up and tied a shiny gauze ribbon around the top of the pony. Her silk black hair cascaded down her back, ever so gently tickling her skin.

Emma walked back to her make-up table, shoes clicking on the hardwood floor. She scoured her drawers of cosmetics, only pulling out the necessary items. Once finished plucking make-up she looked at what to do first. 'The eyes' she thought. The brush circled in the pink eye shadow and then covered its shimmer over her eyelid. Then she tediously applied mascara to her already black eyelashes. For her last finishing touch, she glossed her rather large lips. She gasped in delight as she looked herself in the full length mirror. One last thing, her bag full of make-up, a book (just incase)her new a improved I-pod and her wallet. She quickly gave a last glance into the mirror, then turned and opened the wooden door to head downstairs. The familiar hallway was dark and silent. Emma descended down the wooden stairs, counting each one as she stepped. (10,11,12) On the last step she slipped and just in time grabbed the railing, stopping herself from falling straight on her face sending her heart into a frantic beat.

" Aunt Fran, I think we can go now. Am I forgetting anything?"

" Yes, how about your invitation?"

" Is it necessary?"

"I'd think so."

" Alright, will you answer your phone this time when I call for you to pick me up from the Halloween Party?"

" Yes! I didn't know it was you last time! I'll make sure to answer..."

Aunt Fran opened the front door and a cool fall gale rushed in a rustled all the plants and papers in the front hall. Emma shivered in her white laced heels.

" Maybe you should go and get the cloak that you begged me to make you. You've only worn it once."

" Where is it?"

" Upstairs in my closet. Make sure not to touch anything."

" Of course."

Her heels clicked once again when she traced her steps back up the stairs. The hall was a vast darkness, an eerie silence stood heavy in the air. The dark wasn't Emma's favorite thing, actually she was very afraid of it and the only time she felt comfortable in the dark was in her own bed. Her fingers lightly ran down the stucco wall as her eyes stared out the window at the end of the hall. The moon was high in the sky and was in full bloom. The trees bobbed back and forth in the cold breezy air.

Her aunts door was the last one on the right. Emma placed her hand on the door knob and turned it slowly. She had never been in her aunts room before, not even the first time she been over here. The door flew open to reveal a picturesque Victorian room, complete with a canopy wooden bed. The walls were white with a light wood trim. The night stands and armoires were all a dark mahogany wood, finished with a polished shine. Next to the perfectly made bed was the white closet door. Emma opened it and saw the contents were bare. A few black dresses and her red cloak were the only things accompanying the closet. She grabbed the cloak and briskly jogged her way back down to her aunt, impatiently swaying back and forth, her arms crossed and her foot tapped loudly on the floor.

" Alright. I got it."

" Good. You're ready now right?"

Emma swung the cloak over her shoulders and tied the strings close to her throat.

" Yea we can leave now."

Her aunt opened the door once more and walked down the cement path towards the red sports car that was parked next to a young tree. Emma waited next to the car staring into the starry night. From the hill at which their house sat, she could see the whole city of Paris, its lights twinkling all different colors. The Eiffel Tower was looking over the town of Paris, protecting it from any mystical danger. Emma heard her aunt yelling at her to get into the car, so she boarded into the vehicle. The ride was silent and awkward, Emma staring out the window with her Aunt concentrating on the road. She imagined her perfect night, dancing the whole party with her crush Laramie Andre, she's had one on him for 8 years. He was the richest man in all of Paris and the highest status in society as well. Oh what a sight to see. He had dark green eyes, with light blonde hair, his figure was slender but built. For a 27 year old, he was in fine shape, and caught many of the girls eye. Yet even through her day-dream, deep down she knew there would be no hope.

The Paris Opera House was a divine sight. There were spot lights and a red carpet sprawled out for those who deserved to walk its velvet. Limousines were lined up to let the wealthy out. Emma had to say that she felt a bit out of place to be at a party like this. Laramie did invite her, that thought did put a sparkle of glee into her. She waved a hand off to her aunt and walked up the red carpet, paparazzi whispering and snapping pictures of her as she ascended the carpet. The doormen opened and closed the doors every few seconds as the guest piled into the marvelous building.

Emma snatched her mask just as soon as she walked through the door. The warmth of the building melted her freezing fingers while she put the string of her mask over her head. Her voluptuous body tensed as she saw the amount of people– all wearing masks– that were in the main lobby. Not that she was claustrophobic, she didn't feel comfortable in large crowds, especially when people were staring at her, rudely too. Most men were staring with thirst in their eyes. The women were rolling their beady little eyes, and lifting their chins in attempt to hide their jealousy. She wasn't use to the good attention, nor was she ready for it. She felt her cheeks grow hot under the multitude of stares growing. Thankfully out of the corner of her eye, she caught Laramie coming to the rescue.

" Ah, Emma you're here. I was beginning to worry that you were ditching me. You look really good tonight." Laramie flashed a beautiful smile to Emma, making her heart flutter.

" I am not that stupid to ditch you Laramie. I would be considered a loser to do that." Emma tried to smile back but ended up giving him a half-frown, half-smile under the pressure of the glaring people. " Im not good around people."

" Well how about I start the music and we dance together. I'll be back."

Laramie went past the people to the DJ, talking to him in a quiet tone and then looked back at Emma with a look of admiration. ' Maybe he just sees us with a sibling relationship.' Behind her, people were pushing through the door, bumping into her just as a stuck-up wealthy person would do. As the music started the stares shifted from her to the music, and Emma felt the knot in her throat relax. Laramie disappeared from the DJ and traced back with a glass of wine. Emma smiled at the glass, finally a source to loosen her up.

" A drink?"

" Thanks. I love Halloween don't you? I don't have to be myself. I can pretend to be whatever I feel like." Emma shifted her weight from one foot to the next, while Laramie looked down at her tenderly.

" Yea, I know what you mean, you can just crawl out of the nut shell you have to life in everyday. Uh, Emma I'll be back. Im sorry but I have to make my rounds considering I am the most allegeable bachelor in the city of Paris. It's a scary thought. I'll come back to you, I promise."

Emma nodded. Another chance blew by for her to get him by herself. She knew very well that he was the most allegeable bachelor, and she wanted him to be with her. Standing there alone once again, she felt someone watching her, a feeling that made her uncomfortable beyond belief. She walked away from the front of the lobby to the side of the grand stair case. The shadows are a safe place for her to hide without any one watching her. The music played fast paced beats and soon Emma found herself stepping back and forth almost breaking into full dance.

Time had passed since Laramie promised his return. Emma felt herself stuffing up and decided to find the court yard for some fresh air. She walked the long silent hallways, passed empty darkened rooms which promised a devious background. The lights were dimmed as a few candles were placed along the hallways, just for the special effect. Finally she found her way to the doors to the court yard. Her hands traced the wall till it hit the cold, glossy glass. The doorknobs were cold and heartless, unable to express any inanimate emotion. Her fingertips pushed them down and the doors flew open. The air flipped her dark midnight hair behind her as she stepped into the court yard. Her steps faltered as she heard a woman giggle and a mans voice. Out from behind a column, came Laramie, his hair whipping wildly in the fierce night wind. Emma was about to call out to him on how he had forgotten to get her, but then a blonde came out from behind the column with him. At first, she thought they were just teasing each other, a childish thought indeed. But then, Laramie wrapped his arms around the girls shoulders and kissed her fully. Emma's heart froze in its place and then broke into millions of pieces scattered amongst the hard, leaf covered ground. She felt her eyes heat up with watery, hurt tears, the saltiness invaded her mouth and slipped onto her tongue. A surprised gasp emanated from her throat and spread through-out the court yard. Laramie turned around, his smile sunk into a frown.

" Emma, how long have you been standing there." Laramie moved forward, walking slowly and unsurely.

" I shouldn't have even imagined that I would have a chance with you. It would be too much of a dream wouldn't it! God, how stupid can you be Emma?" She said, more to herself then the couple standing frozen, worried on what to do.

" Emma, I'm sorry. It just sort of happened. I did like you, I really did. But then Angelica came along, and it was like love at first sight." He moved forward to place a warm gentle hand onto her shoulder. She shied away from his attempting grasp.

" It isn't your fault. I was the one who dreamt it all could happen. Don't blame yourself for what I thought could be possible." Emma succumbed to the tears that were held back for the whole period.

" Do you want to talk about it?"

Emma glared at the man.

" Oh yea, I would love to talk about how you fell in love with a stranger! After all we have done. The picnic, the night out dancing, the dinner reservations. I guess that all just slipped your mind hasn't it."

" No. I remember all that perfectly. But its just that, I don't know. My mind played tricks on me. And, also Angelica and I had more chemistry."

" I failed chemistry. Apparently I'm bad at both the to definitions." A tear fell onto her cold fingers.

" What do you want me to do Emma? I'm in love."

Emma's sadness soon transformed into anger.

" Forget it! Forget you! Just tell me where the women's bathroom is then. Could you manage that without your mind playing tricks on you?"

" Its too the right and down the hallway. Are you sure you don't - "

" I don't need anything from you anymore Laramie. Have fun with your 'Angel'."

Emma turned sharply on her heels and marched past the double doors and turned to the left. She mumbled curses and complaints under her breath as she made her way deeper into the Paris Opera house. Soon the lights were barely even on and the candles were keeping the hallways lit. ' This can't be right. What the hell did that ass tell me? He must have wanted me to get lost.' Emma started to panic in the growing light. She was about to turn around, but a lit stairwell caught her eye. Finally she had reached the women's bathroom. She thought it would take her 3 light years for it to come. Her fingers wrapped around at the sides of her dress, hoisting it up just slightly, as she descended down the spiral staircase. A room came into view, very old and dust circulated through the white-washed cement compartment. It definitely wasn't the ladies room.

Emma studied the room with a narrowed eye. It was a drawing room, with old rotting papers and candle holders spewed over on table tops. She put her bag down next to the table and stopped. Emma gazed at the oddity, wondering why this room had been lit. She sat for a moment and tried to think of a logical explanation for the candles being on. Her ears strained to hear any movement, but all they caught onto was the music blaring and the chattering of the party. A sparkle out of the corner of Emma's eye caught her attention from the party noise. It was a shining light on the floor, golden brown. She bent down to get a closer look at the shining light, perplexed on how this could be so bright with the dim light in the room. When she touched it, the place where the light hit her fingers tingled. Finally, without any more patience left, Emma picked up the light. She laughed when she found it was merely a golden wedding band. On the interior of the band had inscription in it. It read, ' I love thy Angel', and on the exterior were roses inscribed into the metal. Who ever must have carved this must have had a crafted hand. Emma smiled at the spirited words, it almost reminded her of something, like Romeo and Juliet or... she couldn't pin-point it. But soon her feeling of joy terminated as her eyes found it difficult to concentrate on one specific thing.

The chattering of the party up above slowly evaporated as Emma clutched the golden wedding band in her palm, her fingers turning white from pressure. Her head spun inside her skull rapidly, making the empty old compartment room a blur of colors. Reds, blues, greens, and florescent yellow spun into a color vortex, until all the colors flushed into a black oblivion. The last thing Emma remembered was her feet losing balance with the floor, and her delicate black head banging against the end of the old wooden table behind her. As she laid sprawled out under the table, the dust and mold blew away from each crevice and landmark. The candles were reborn into flickering fire and the stones old age melted away into a younger form.


	2. Unexpected Guest

Chapter 2

Emma felt a fierce pounding throb in the back of her head. ' Oiy, what the hell happened. I don't remember coming here?'. The room was lighter, with all the candles in the room lit, the cob webs seemed to have been wiped away and the stone wasn't as white-washed as before. In fact, the wood even smelt newer. Her hands were still fisted at the sides of her dress, her eyes looked straight up into the cedar wood grain. The table cloth was draped over her bent legs and the light poured through the translucent fabric. Rubbing her hands against her dress, the ring slipped out from under her clenched fingertips and clattered amongst the cold, coarse ground. 

The music that was gently playing above came to a grinding halt. Emma froze in terror as a pair of footsteps descended down the spiraling stair corridor. She tucked her knees under the table and rest her chin on top, her arms cradling them with anticipation. The figure moved around the room, pausing at the table across from her. She said a silent prayer under her breath, while it bent over and blew out each candle roughly. It mumbled something, then turned on it's heels, and burst through a hidden door that Emma hadn't seen at first.

The darkness engulfed her.

She couldn't even see her knees, which were right in front of her face. Her body paused a few minutes just to ensure the room was empty, her ears strained once again to hear anything; nothing came. She inched her bottom forward, feeling the ground for the ring. Her hands didn't come into any contact of metal, only the porous ground. Emma continued her way out from under the table, clumsily banging her forehead on the table over hang. She froze to hear the footsteps once again, but thankfully they didn't reappear. Her legs cracked as the girl stood up to full height.

" Now what do I do. I can't see a damn thing!" She whispered to herself, as her back ran into the table.

Behind her, Emma heard a faint click of a shoe and before she could even move, a rope sailed over her head and instantaneously tightened around her neck. Her fingers groped at the rope feverishly, trying to relieve it from her gasping throat. Feeling a presence behind her, Emma tried to plead to the shadow.

" I can't breathe Monsieur. I...-" Emma choked out as the figure behind her let out a cackle.

" Its called a Punjab Lasso, Mademoiselle. It is for strangling intruders like yourself." The voice breathed out calmly. It was a mans voice, not rough but actually quite smooth.

Emma struggled against the shadow behind her, sending her elbow deep into the mans ribs. It didn't even slow him down. He continued with brute force, the rope tightening against her thin neck.

" Let...me...go!" Emma yelled behind her. Her lungs quickly running out of breath.

The man thrust her forward into the wall next to the stairwell. He tucked Emma's bare arms into her sides and slid his knee through her legs, preventing her any body movement. He quickly pulled the rope over her head and pushed his body weight against her, forcing her head to bang lightly against the cement wall. She breathed deeply in and out, like a rabid bull in a ring.

" Do you relish the feeling of intruding in my home? Have people not yet learned to leave Erik...this horrible monster alone!"

"Sir, I really don't know what your bitching about and I don't like being pinned against a wall like this. Now let me go!"

" I will not allow a beggar women to scurry around my house. This is not a homeless shelter and I feel you should be thrown out to the streets, where every wench, like yourself, belongs."

" I'm not going to let your rape me! All I want to do is to go home!"

Emma flung herself backwards, sending the man flying onto the table were she was just hiding under. The girl turned the corner and ran up the stairs, the man right on her heels.

" Sorry about that dude!"

The man paused for a moment to think about what the heck the girl just said to him. Emma noticed this pause and used it to her advantage but with no avail. In three seconds the man was right behind her again, trying to grab at her ankles. Luckily Emma was just out of the mans reach, but he did manage to grab hold of the hem of her dress in between his middle and index fingers. He pulled back but only accomplished ripping the dress, revealing her bare legs.

" What the hell was that for. . ." Emma screamed behind her to the growling man. "Wait that was a stupid question."

The last step came into view, so she propelled her hands and feet off the step. Her whole body flew into the main room, spilling over a candelabra. The man's feet echoed through the main room, loud and fast. The girl didn't know which way to go, the room was filled with doors and papers were thrown all over the place. It was an eye sore. Emma turned around to find a different way out but only to see the man sprinting right for her, his teeth grinding and his breath rigid. Emma simply stepped to her left at the precise moment and the man dove passed her and toppled right over the night table, spilling over the ink bottles and extra papers. He laid there, too embarrassed to get up. Emma couldn't help but let out a set of chuckles. She tried to cover them but failed in doing so.

" Oops, my bad." She giggled. "Here let me help you up."

Emma stuck her pale bare arm for the man to grasp onto. She had doubt that he was even going to except it. But surprisingly the man placed his in hers hoisting himself up from the wreckage. The moment he was stable on his feet, he swung Emma's forearm violently behind her, bending it up her spinal cord. She let out a moan of pain as the man opened his mouth to speak.

" Thought you could escape me didn't you.?"

" Actually, for a second there I did. Listen, I haven't had a really good night tonight so if you could just-"

" I don't have the patience to listen to you..." He pushed her arm up further, smiling at the yelp of pain.

" If you let me go, I'll go home and never bother you again. Stop trying to be such a hard ass!"

" Fine. But you'll have to promise me that after I let you go, you must tell the tale of the Opera ghost, understand?" The man let Emma's arm free. The moment he let go, she rubbed the spot were his fingers inflicted the most pain.

" I promise. All I need is my bag now." Emma turned around and trudged back down the stairs. ' He's an odd man isn't he, especially wearing a plain white mask, pretty boring.' She found her bag next to the table where she had left it before fainting. She rummaged through it, passing the I-pod and the book until she came across her blunt, silver cell phone. " Found it." She yelled up to the man.

When she came back up, the man was trying to clean up the mess he had made a moment ago. Emma laughed once again, unable to contain her amusement. The man turned around and glared at the young girl. His gaze dropped from her face, to the object she had in her hand, now poking at it with her pointer finger.

" What is that..._thing_?"

" What this, this is a cell phone which at the moment is completely dead. Well I guess I'll have to use your phone if you don't mind."

" Pardon me?"

" You know, a phone! Something you use to dial a friend or family to talk to them." The man stared at her, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

" I do not have the slightest notion of what you are speaking of mademoiselle."

" HELLO! Where have you been for the last ten years? We're in the 21st century. I do think you should-"

" Actually," The man interrupted. " Were are only in the 19th century."

" Very funny Monsieur. I am not that stupid. It is the 21st century, I guarantee you."

" Peer around you, does it look like the 21st century. Well it may look it but I wouldn't know."

Emma peered around the room. Everything was old looking and Victorian, almost like her Aunts room. Emma gaped at the idea of time travel, it was unlogical. Maybe she had too much to drink and this is all just a dream. Or worse, Laramie is playing a trick on her. She started hitting her head with the palm of her hand, trying to wake herself of the horrible dream she had been having. The man stared at her in shock, and could only wonder what the heck was wrong with her. He found himself staring at her body, up and down his eyes traveled. From her pale, creamy face to where the dress ripped up her legs. Though she wasn't the skinniest woman in the world, he found her curves to be more attractive that way. She turned around and marched up to him, his face flashing beet red at the thought of her catching him looking, but she didn't even notice.

" Do you have any proof?"

The man scoured his house, looking in drawers and on the floor for the newspaper he had stolen off the managers desk a week earlier. Finally, he found it and shoved it at the girl. In return Emma snatched from his fingers.

" Wednesday, October 19, 1896. . . Oh my god! Your kidding me right! How the hell am I going to survive in 1896! I'm going to die, Im going to catch a common cold and die. That's how they all die isn't it. There's no T.v. or radio. There's no... THERE'S NO WOMEN NECESSITIES!"

The man froze at this sudden out break. There is a chance that this women is insane. But if she is acting, she is putting on a good show.

" Mademoiselle, do you wish me to call a carriage?"

" The ring!"

" Pardon?"

" I had a ring in my hand when I fainted. It must still be down there then...!" Emma once again skipped down the steps, twice almost falling on her face. She yelled at the man to come and light a candle. His footsteps calmly trudged down the stairs carrying a candelabra. She bent down onto her knees and with her hands in front of her, she felt the ground for the ring. Five minutes passed without any luck. Emma started to get frustrated at her stupidity, until she screamed in delight, almost sending the man behind her into heart failure.

" Jesus women! I have a feeling your trying to kill me. First you made me run into my drawing table then-"

" Would you shut your mouth. I found the ring. Step back."

" I beg your pardon, you can not tell me to-!"

" Would you just step back...?"

The man listened and stepped back in fear of getting hit. Emma wound her arm back and started throwing the ring to the ground screaming curses and insults at it.

" Come on! Send me back." She wound up and threw it again. " Come on you stupid piece of-"

" Would you stop that. Obviously from the last twenty throws, its not sending you back to the future, or to the present or whatnot." Erik walked passed the girl, picked up the ring, and placed it in his pocket.

" I realized that. I was venting myself. Great, I'm stuck in the past with a lunatic who tried to strangle me with no where to live. "

" That's a bloody shame. Would you still want me to call a carriage for you."

" What! Your kidding me right. Please, please can I stay here. I have no money and no food to have and I don't want to die. I promise I won't look through your things or go through your house without your permission. I feel like a child begging for a lolly pop."

" I don't think I need a roommate at the time thank-you. I am in the middle of composing my new score and I don't need any distractions."

" I'll make a deal with you ok. How about I just come here to sleep, then I won't even be near you to bug you, and you can't try to strangle me, deal?"

" But where is the amusement in that! Well, its almost winter, you'll freeze out there. Fine you may stay, but you have to be quiet and you mustn't interfere with my working schedule. Understood?" Erik felt surprised at this nice gesture. Over the years he must have softened.

Emma jumped up in delight and threw herself onto the man. She wrapped her freezing arms around him and squeezed. The man tensed up at this sudden civil contact and pushed the girl off him.

" One word of good advice, do not touch me!"

" Oh sorry. I just got a little excited that's all. No harm done. So who are you?"

" I beg your pardon?"

" What's your name? I can't live with someone if I don't even know their name. Please tell me."

" Erik... And you are?"

" Emmaline Cerise LaSalle. You can call me Emma for short. So where will I be staying. Could you give me a tour of you abode?"

" Silly girl. There are only three rooms you may go without my permission. Follow me."


	3. Getting to Know you

Chapter 3

The man went through the door which once again, Emma didn't realize. It was pitch dark and she couldn't see a dang thing and the air was cold and drafty. She froze in terror, no not the dark. Her arms reached out from her sides to seize the wall but their was nothing to grab. Sweat beads started to form at the top of her head as she began to panic. She couldn't believe that he would desert her in a pitch black corridor. Wait, there was a breath, she heard someone breathing.

" Monsieur, help me. I can't see a damn thing in the slightest darkness. Even when the moons out, and the stars shine bright." Emma retorted almost on the brink of hysteria.

Erik walked back to the panicked girl, and grasped her arm. He smirked when he saw her jump. Her bare arms were smooth and freezing cold. Guilt flashed in his mind, and his evil demon tried to push it away, but his tender side took over.

" Mademoiselle, you are frozen solid. Now that you are a guest in my home, I shall attempt to be more approachable." The girls arm relaxed in his grip. He let go of her for just a second.

" Erik," He shuttered at the name. " Don't let me go you prune!"

Erik swung his coat onto her shoulders, and placed his hand back onto her elbow and lead her through the tunnel a bit more.

" I was only going to warm you Mademoiselle."

"Oh, I knew that. Heh... Do you think you could try to call me by my birth name. Is it too hard to do that?" Emma told him while tripping over a crooked stone on the ground.

" If you insist, Made- I mean Emma." Erik said.

Emma gave up trying to resist the man. Obviously he had a tender heart if only it was brought out. The tunnel lasted about thirty seconds of walking, and soon she could make out what looked like a door.

" I will have to let go of you once more mademoiselle. This lock is tricky." He confessed fumbling things in his vest pocket. He took out a rose shaped key.

Erik walked away from his guest to unlock the door. He pushed the door open and ushered the girl inside. The man played with the fire place, trying to make the wood light. Emma walked forward, peering hard into the room. She could make out a bed, some dressers and a wooden chest at the end of the bed. The more she walked in, the more she could see. It was another canopy bed. There was a black laced veil covering it and across from the bed there was an indentation, with a vanity table and a mirror placed within. Next to that was another door, most likely one that lead somewhere unexpected.

Finally the fire caught, and the room was ignited into a golden flame. Erik circled around the room, lighting each candle, the more candles that were lit, the more the room came alive. The walls were a light maroon and the bed was a light velvet vanilla. The pillows were white as pearls and the doors were both a dark mahogany. Erik bent over to pick up scattered pieces of clothing and fabric and placed them on the end of the bed. When he finished, he turned on his heels and walked out the door. Emma stood silently in front of the bed, too shy to move or look around. She pulled Erik's jacket off her shoulders, the smell of spice swished past her nose, and placed it on a near by chair. She saw a beautiful silk red night gown lying on the chest, and Emma squealed in delight. She bent down to pick it up but she heard the footsteps coming again. She quickly snapped her body straight again, cracking her back in the doing.

" I took it to myself to make sure your stay at my rather bitter attempt of a home, to be at least comfortable so I retrieved your bag for you."

" Thanks. What should I give you?"

" Come again?"

" How should I pay you?"

" Oh no need. Just follow my commandments and nothing should go wrong. First things first, that door is for the bathroom and everything in this room is now yours."

?Even you?' Emma thought to herself, biting her lip at the childish thought. Twenty first century girls happen to get crushes easily. Especially girls like Emma.

" As for the rest of the house, you may read in the library and you may also come to my drawing room if you ever need anything, that is where I shall be. If you leave I ask you to not spread the word of you staying here, it would put a damper on my infamous reputation. Also you will need to take a boat to the shore of the Rue Scribe, then you are free to go anywhere. If anyone follows you, take a different route into the Opera house, which I will show you on a different date."

" I can't believe that I traveled through time. I just don't know how it happened. That damned Laramie. What an ass!" Emma said, not realizing her violent arms picking at her ruined dress. "Look at my dress. Aunt Fran is going to kill me. I'm a grown adult and I still live at my aunt's house. Isn't that just the most pathetic thing you have ever heard!"

" So then your not an adult yet. If you are still living at your Aunts house, doesn't that make you a child?"

" No." Emma said, ironically in a childish voice. She stared down at her ruined dress hem, her cape was lost in the room she just left. Erik seeing her eyes tracing her ruined dress decided it was time to take charge.

" Would you like something more appropriate to wear Mademoi-"

"Ahem!" Emma coughed, glaring at the man.

" Emma, I mean. Well... your answer?"

" Yea sure. Whatcha got?"

" Considering its almost three in the morning, why don't you get some rest. You look exhausted."

" Well traveling one hundred and three years would make you tired." Emma said as she rubbed her eyes, trying to wake herself up to talk to her knew roommate.

" Hundred and nine actually. Well, I'm retiring for the night. Good night...Emma." Erik bowed down low and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Emma sighed and changed out of the dirty rags which were once a beautiful sight indeed. She grabbed the red nightgown from the chest and slipped her curvaceous body into the gown, it stuck to her sides tightly. ? I need to loose weight.' She thought pulling at the tight sides of the night gown. Although only a size three in jeans, she still felt she needed to loose weight. Slipping away from the warm room, Emma went into the bathroom and washed her face with cold water from the sink. Though it could have been 8 years old, she didn't care an ounce.   
Coming back from the bathroom, Emma traced her fingers along the wall, until her hand slid into oblivion. Walking towards the room, Emma tripped over something and was sent sprawled onto the floor, her ankle throbbing in a horrible pain. Emma sat up, cradling her hurt ankle like a child.  
" Ow, ow, ow! Damn it Emma, why do you have to be so clumsily."  
Emma pushed herself back off the ground and hopped over to the bed. She flipped the sheets back and slid into the velvet sheets. Emma moaned in comfort and wondered where this delicate contraption went in the future. It felt like she was sleeping on a cloud from heaven. Emma closed her eyes sleepily and thought how long she would have to live in 1896, but the more she thought about staying with Erik, the more she felt it didn't matter how long she stayed. Emma didn't remember succumbing to the darkness of her sleep, but her dream was intriguing.

She was back at the courtyard, the same feeling of splendid happiness overwhelmed her heart. The doors opened on their own and she saw no one there at first. Then out of the corner of her eye she saw Laramie come back out with the blonde, kissing her passionately. Emma once again felt her heart brake in half, her eyes swelling up into heavy salt tears. But from the roof came a man dressed all in black, a cape flying behind him. A mask glowed bright in the autumn night, intimidating and seductive. Laramie and the blonde both shrieked in utter horror. The man jumped down right in front of Emma and grabbed her chin in between his thumb and index finger. Emma was confused but not scared. Laramie came up behind the man and tried to grab him away, the masked man turned around and glared at him. Suddenly Laramie, the blonde and the court yard all vanished before her eyes. The masked man's face was blurring and unable to detect who's it was. The next scene came to play. It was the worst place in the world for Emma. She was on a wooden stage, with an audience staring at her, almost in a gawkish fashion. Warm arms came from behind her and enclosed themselves around her stomach, pushing her back against his chest. Emma felt the mans heart beating rapidly, and his breathe briskly rising and falling. She turned around to face the man. She gasped in horror to see a face blurred beyond the point of view. The only thing that stood out were those bright green and yellow eyes, staring at her lovingly. Emma tried to smile at him but could only stare. She desperately tired to decipher the face. The man's face turned from love to hate in a matter of seconds. He snapped his fingers and a second later, Emma plunged down a door which was set beneath her. She flailed her arms in the air. She screamed at the man to help her, but the man stared at her as if he couldn't understand what she was saying. Her mouth opened wide for one last attempt at a cry for help.

" Emma, Emma. Mademoiselle, wake-up your having a bad dream. Wake up my dear." Erik said, dodging the flying hands and feet. He made a hint to move, but Emma grabbed as his collar from his shirt. " Emma, let go of me."

Emma woke up, her eyes snapping awake. She looked at Erik, and her hands clenched to his collar. She let go and turned beet red in the face. ?This poor man, what he has to endure on his first day with me...'

" I'm sorry, I was having a bad dream."

" Indeed, no doubt of that." Erik smirked as he rubbed the spot on his uncovered cheek where she had sacked him in the face.

" I'm sorry Erik."

The man backed away from the bed. Emma threw the covers off her and stood up to go use the bathroom. Erik gasped and covered his eyes hastily, ashamed at the thought that he looked at her chest.

" What is it?"

" Do you have any decency woman! You barely have any clothing on! Please, cover yourself." Erik reached out blindly to the chest, picking up her underwear in the doing.

" How should I cover myself with my underwear, Monsieur?" Emma giggled, almost breaking a rib laughing so hard.

Erik's hand flung backward, sending the underwear flying passed Emma's head. His relaxed posture melted away into tensed awkwardness. He turned full around, a snarl on his face and walked out the door. Emma still giggled at the scene which just happened. Though she was embarrassed, it was hilarious to see. It was like as if a school teacher cursed in front of the class. Emma ran to the bathroom in fear should wouldn't make it to the toilet on time. When she was finished, she changed into a white blouse and a dark green skirt, which by the way was too puffy for her liking, but she was going to have to get used to it. She fumbled with the string on her back, giving up after five minutes of fighting it. Finally, she was too frustrated to do it herself, so she ran through the corridor, and climbed the stairs once again. The main room wasn't the mess it used to be, it was cleaned and looked as if brand new. The many doors in the main room confused her, and she didn't want to anger the man anymore than she had already. Stepping into the middle of the room, she placed her hands on her hips and called for Erik.

" Erik... Erik I need your help!" No response came throughout the house. Emma started to panic at the thought of being in a strangers house and not knowing where she was. Erik stepped out from behind a door and walked up to the girl, his eyes wide and his face flustered.

" What do you want now! I'm guessing you would like another chance to make a fool out of me."

" Oh that. Listen-"

" I will not be patronized in my own home! You will learn early on that I am not a man of patience, and what I say goes, always goes. No question. If you cannot abide by my rules, you must leave."

"It was an accident. I'm sorry but the moment was perfect. I didn't purposely place my underwear-"

" Can we please not get into details. Just leave me be for a while." Erik turned to make his leave but Emma grabbed his arm in protest.

" Wait, I need your help." Emma said, his eyes blared with fire, and his mouth cracked into a maniac smile. Emma snatched her hand away from the mans arm.

" Do not touch me, Mademoiselle. I find it hard for you to listen to a man's voice. Maybe next time I should try screaming in your face, would that make you understand!" Erik's temper rose, along with his hoarse voice.

" All I wanted you to do was to tie the strings around the back. I can't do it by myself. But it seems you want to make a big scene out of this. Why are you so temperamental?"

" Woman, if you knew what hell I used to live through every day, you would understand my temper!" Erik yelled, grinding his teeth away.   
Emma raised her chin proudly and turned around, her back facing him. Her fingers held the two pieces of string from falling. Erik roughly grabbed the two pieces of string and tied them tightly, making the girl in front of him gasp.

" Why so rough? You know what never mind. If you wish to be arrogant, I'll let you think about it. You need to learn how to treat a girl. I figured that a nineteenth century gentleman would be more respectable."

" Please, you don't know what happens in this century, women are supposed to serve the men and-"

Emma turned around from the him and walked briskly to the stairwell, not even looking backwards at the gaping man. She trudged down the stairwell, then lent against the wall next to it. He was so cute and that mask was intriguing, but then again the temper could kill her someday. Maybe it was best she go back to her room for the day and just rest.

Erik stood there a moment, thinking how rude that girl was. He was not ready to let this woman walk all over him without getting his thoughts out to her. He didn't even let Christine get by with that, although Christine was afraid of him, and this girl just seemed annoyed. He walked the same path that Emma had just walked before him. He skipped down the stone stairs, walking into the room, where Emma was leaning against the wall. He looked to his right and saw the girl there, wide-eyed and nervous. He narrowed his eyes at her and cornered her, placing his hands on the coarse cement, creating a triangle between Emma and himself.

" I do not wish to be enemies, but you want a home, you might want to be less opinionated. If we keep fighting like this, I am not sure if I can hold in my temper. Now, will you please understand what I'm trying to say?"

Emma shoved the man's hand away from her side and briskly walked down the passageway towards her bedroom. When she heard the man behind her, she ran and slammed the door behind her. Erik attempted to open the door, but found it locked. He banged on the door, his temples flaring and a nerve pulsated on his forehead. Never in his life had he been so infuriated. He wasn't used to women saying their opinions and fighting back. He half collapsed on the door, mentally exhausted. He turned around on his heel and went back up to the main room.

? What am I doing wrong. This is the best deed I have done in almost my whole life. Why am I so sour about it. I should be proud of myself. Then again, I do have this disaster on my face, how can I be confident enough to be nice to any one... oh why try to talk to myself, it just makes me increasingly insane.'

Erik went back to his drawing room, where his precious organ was placed. He stood before it and sighed in adoration, the only thing to vent himself. He cracked his fingers and sat himself on the red velvet stool. He started simple with ascending and descending notes, swaying into his music. He started to think about the dark haired women, this one time, not Christine but the stranger living with him. He played into his day-dreams, and fantasies, washing his mind clean of any emotion other than pleasure. Soon he felt his eyes closing in physical exhaustion. His feet lifted his body from the stool and carried him to the couch next to the organ. He collapsed onto the dark, red love seat and draped a Persian blanket over his limp body. His eyes closed, his mind was filled with tunes and notes to write down, but his body was to tired to move. His last thought was of Christine, her curls entwined in his hands, snuggling in his arms.


	4. Morning Tea

**Author's Note:**

**Thanks for all those who reviewed! You guys mean alot to an aspiring writer. Please keep reviewing it helps me out on idea's and confidence. I have decided to wait until I have 3 reviews per chapter, but since it seems I have waited to the end of my patience, I will post chapter 4. . . What a temper! **

** Iam-themask**

* * *

Chapter 4

Two days later!

Erik awoke with a jerk from his nap, his head perspiring beads of cold sweat. The man growled at himself, and his stupidity. When will he ever get over this girl. Its been too long to think she'll come back.

The one dream he hates to have over and over again. The previous days events replayed over in his head. He stood up and rested his elbows on his knee's. ' What a fool to think she'd return to me, what a rotten belief.' His fingers ran through his head, and the thought of the stranger down below retained his thought. He rummaged through his pocket to find one of his only items which told the time. It was quarter to 8. Maybe he could make it up to the girl, just maybe. Erik walked out of the room and went into the kitchen. He fixed a plate of toast and jam, along with some red wine. In the center of the server, he placed a red rose, perfectly bloomed and trimmed. He smirked at his creation and headed down to Emma's quarters.

Emma slept in her picturesque bed, her head burrowing into the velvet, down feather pillow. Her head was swirling with dreams of the man who was hosting her. Her body quivered in her sweet dreams filled with unknown pleasures that would make any ordinary girl blush. She fought to keep with the dream when she heard a knocking on the door. ' No don't go...ah'. It was too late, her mind had awaken itself, and her body turned her onto her side.

" Emma, are you awake?" Erik whispered through the door, tapping his knuckles on the wood once more.

" Well, I am now. What do you want?" Emma flipped the covers off her body, and retrieved a house coat off the night stand so the man behind the door wouldn't have a fit again.

"Are you decent?"

" Yea, you can come in if you dare?"

" I have a surprise for you. Its nothing elegant so don't get excited."

Erik opened the door to find the girl sitting at the edge of the bed, looking down at her feet. He was glad to see she had on a house coat. When she looked up, her face went from a solemn stare to a surprised inquire. Emma looked at the tray, her stomach growling fiercely and her tongue licking her round lips. She indeed hadn't eaten in over a day and even the mere rations on the server looked appetizing. Though she wasn't the biggest fan of wine, it would have to do for now.

" This morning I realized you hadn't eaten anything since your unusual arrival. So I prepared some breakfast for you."

" Oh my god. I don't know what to say, or even begin to tell you how much I appreciate this. No one has ever done anything like this for me." Emma got up and was in mid hug before she remembered the mans warning. " Sorry, I almost forgot..."

" Is there a lot of physical contact in the future?"

" Yea, kind of. It's a dangerous world out there, well back in the 21st century. Here, lets sit and eat."

" On the floor?" Erik said, gesturing disgustedly at the old stone ground.

" So, we'll just put a blanket on the ground, and there you go!" Emma told the man, placing a linen blanket on the ground.

" I don't think I can accompany you this morning, I have some errands to run." Erik lied to the girl, placing the tray down onto the floor and moved to make his exit. He didn't wish to get too involved, he was simply having a guest at his house. Erik knew he wasn't used to having someone with him, and wasn't use to be so nice to a stranger. But because of this odd incident, he found it difficult to blame the girl for her appearance.

Emma frowned at the man's attempt to leave her, but she didn't want to be left alone any longer. She was by herself for almost two days, and she wasn't used to the feeling of solitude. Though the man she was staying with seemed to be used to it. Emma had constant questions flowing in her head about the man, but knew almost all of them would be too rude to ask: as of, why he was still wearing that mask when Halloween had passed, and also why it seemed they were underground, there were no windows in the whole place. Emma decided it was time to act up, to say something.

" Wait, Erik!" Emma said, running to the opened door and leaning against the wood paneling. " I don't want to be by myself any more. Would you at least join me in eating some food?"

" Ah, woman. I have to much to do today. Maybe some other time."

" What do you have to do anyways? It can most likely wait."

Erik paused in the corridor to the drawing room. He sighed and ran his long, skinny fingers through his black hair, and turned around to retreat back to the room. The thought of sitting down with Emma was nerve wracking, he wasn't used to a girl asking him to join. He returned to the door and sat down across from his guest. He couldn't help but catch her eyes. They were the color of the trees outside, when they looked like they were on fire. When reality kicked in, he felt so stupid sitting on the floor holding a piece of toast, staring at it dumb-founded. Meanwhile, Emma was gobbling her piece down, occasionally slurping some wine down. She paused and flushed bright red when she caught Erik looking at her disgustedly. Her mouth slowed down to a regular chew, and she tried to use and remember all the manners her aunt taught her. She was never ready to come out of society, but now this was a test of her knowledge.

" I'm sorry, I was just really hungry." Emma paused to force down the last bit of mushed toast she had in her mouth. " And look, you didn't even take one bite of your toast."

" I haven't much of an appetite is all." Erik tried to take a bite of the toast. The sweet jam hit his tongue, and his taste buds exploded. It was way too sweet for his mouth. Erik quickly thought of an excuse to get away from this embarrassing dilemma. " Well I guess -"

" How long have you lived in this house? I looks very old, and there's no windows."

" Oh, well I would guess about eighteen years, maybe. It takes a hefty amount of time for one to get used to it, but after that, its just another place to stay. Well, this was most enjoyable, but if you'll excuse me, I do have much to do today. Good day, Emma."

" Hey, I was talking to you. I'm not done asking you questions. Don't you think I deserve to ask things that are on my mind?"

" Do you think I deserve playing host to a woman who I don't even know?"

" Am I suppose to answer that?"

" Never mind. I don't feel like going into great detail about my life. Some things are just better left untold."

" All right then. What kind of business do you have to do today that is so urgent?" Emma suddenly felt conscious about herself when she saw the man looking at her. When they met eye to eye, he looked away and smoothed his shirt over.

" For a start, I was going to go to town and shop for a few things, but since it seems that today's weather is quite fair, I will have to wait until sundown. But meanwhile I have– if you would call it– an appointment with the Managers of the Opera Populaire to talk about my former student. I shouldn't be long." Erik's eyes grew distant, with desire at the thought of his brown haired student but tried to look some what content when he felt Emma's gaze on him. She had such a different aura then Christine. For some reason, she didn't feel afraid of him, but curious.

" Who is this student of yours? What did you teach her?" The girl took another bite of the piece of toast which sat in between her fingers.

" Well she was a young, aspiring soprano. I helped her achieve in becoming the leading soprano, sometimes I gloat about that. And of your second question," Erik paused to clear his throat and fidget nervously. He wasn't used to have such conversations with strangers, or people at that. " I taught her to sing with passion, not just notes and words. But my most precious thing I own is my organ and love to hear it play. I mostly adore music of any kind."

" What was her name?"

" A name which does not concern you, Mademoiselle." Erik retorted. He hung his head low after the defensive tone of his voice. Why did he still feel for that brat? She didn't even love him and it was all because of his deformity.

" Well, then could you at least tell me why you are still wearing that funny looking mask. I thought Halloween was over already." As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Emma wished she never had said anything. The mans face grew red as an autumn leaf and his eyes burned like a full moon. He took a step towards her. Emma stepped back, and continued to do so as the man gained on her. ' This is the end.' She thought, closing her eyes and waited for the back of his hand to make contact with her cheek. But no such blow came to.

" How dare you," Erik breathed out just over a whisper. " This isn't just a _thing_ I wear for fun, there is purpose to wearing it and frankly I do not feel it is your business to know anything about my life. You do not have the right to bash me in my own home. Remember it is I who let you stay and it is I who would gladly get rid of you. My patience and anger are short fuses mademoiselle and explode daily. If you still wish to jest about my face, do it when I'm not in front of you! You will stay in this room till I feel you will be let out...! You foolish wench!" Erik turned on his heel and grabbed the heart shaped key from the mantel of the fire place. He stormed out and slammed the door shut. Emma heard the click of the lock sliding into its place.

" WAIT!" Emma called after the footsteps she heard walking briskly down the corridor. " Wait, I didn't know! Don't leave me here you stupid bastard!"

Emma took the serving tray that sat content on the blanket, and out of rage, threw it at the wooden door. Never in her life had she felt so angry yet ashamed. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know the mask was there for a reason.

Emma ran to the door and banged feverishly at it, screaming for the man to come back. She was in the 19th century, and now she was alone once again. How she hated being alone in a foreign place, it scared her out of her skin. The yelling wasn't working, and the banging made no difference. The man was gone, and so was her companionship. Emma made one last attempt at pounding the door but only succeeded in splitting the skin down the side of her palms. For some strange reason, the sight of blood running down her wrists comforted her and the pain seemed to wipe away her tears from her heated cheeks. Emma melted down the wooden door and closed her eyes. What was wrong with her, she had to be brave and courageous, innocence is a given, and wouldn't take over her. Her emotional state was unusual for her now. There was no particular reason why she was upset, she didn't even know the man that she was angry with.

Emma wiped her tears away from her cheek bones and stood up to go to the bathroom. Her hands shivered as they were submerged into the chilly water. Emma watched the water turn the color of a rose, and closed her eyes in disgust. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting so? It would have to stop. She would have to act like nothing had happened and when that door was unlocked, her face would show pleasure in seeing the man who seemed to hate her. She would become his friend whether he liked it or not. And her heart would take her to the end to make him understand that she was not just a play thing, that she was a 21st century soldier. After calming herself down, Emma went back to the room at which she was staying in.

" A prison cell more like it!"

The room was in total disarray, her bed unmade, the blanket still on the ground, and the place by the door was a complete mess. Her feet glided across the stone floor and stopped at the door. She stooped down, picked up the serving tray and placed it on the chair which sat along the wall. She picked up shattered pieces of porcelain teapot and put them on top of the server. Then, her cut up hands picked up the excess food particles around the door. She laughed when she saw the small dents in the wooden door. Since the door was locked, there was no way of fully cleaning up the room. Emma moved over to the fire place and picked up the pearl, linen blanket, folded it and placed the neat square onto the edge of the bed. She made her bed, then opened the armoire to look at the different clothes. Many colors lined up one after the other: cherry red, butter yellow, dappled green, gleaming gold; all of which too small and too elegant to be worn by her. She looked through the drawers till she came across and plain green blouse and a black skirt. When she was fully dressed, she reached over for her bag, sat on the queen canopy bed, and pulled out her new book that she had brought from home and opened it to the first page of the first chapter: ' Is it the Ghost?'. Emma felt she would finish the book by the time the man of the house got back, which was an odd thought to process.


	5. What is an Opera?

Chapter 5

Erik grabbed his cloak and hat and proceeded towards the door which lead to the dock. He did hear the banging and the screaming but thought it only a ploy for the girl to get him to unlock the door; he dismissed them. The last thing he grabbed was his staff and walked out the door with a slam. Erik sucked in the cool air that swirled around his face and wiggled its way under his white mask. He walked down the few stone steps and proceeded to the wooden dock where his boat was tied to an upright log. He jumped into the small make-shift boat, thrust his staff into the smokey water and pushed forward. The thought of the girl banging on the wooden door with a face-full of tears disturbed him. How could he just leave her there, but then again he barely even knew her. These thoughts circulated around in his head until he almost shouted aloud to make them stop. Erik barely noticed his boat hitting shore, and had to pause a moment to regain he posture as the Phantom, instead of the kindhearted, Erik. He began to feed off of his anger towards Emma. What was he doing with a girl in his house anyway when he can barely live with himself?

Floor after floor Erik climbed, surprisingly getting tired after taking a few years break from his infamous pseudonym. He made his way tediously to the stage to watch the ballet practice and to also sneak a peak at the new violinist who will be performing later in the afternoon. He rested his body flat against a beam high in the ceiling and waited for the young ballet girls to waddle out onto the stage. Finally after much wait, the group stepped up and started their routine. Everyone was looking rather good, except for one, who was obviously slacking behind in the routine and needed some discipline. But none came, and Erik grew upset. He could not have his opera house disgraced by a sloppy ballet dancer, that would not do. He would simply have to put in a bad word to the managers, then she will be fixed.

The violinist was miraculous and Erik was quite mad that he couldn't put one bad word in for the man who obviously had talent. The music made him relax against the beam, losing himself in complete ecstasy. Once or twice he had to grab hold of the wooden beam, for he almost lost his balance. When the music was over, a young woman, about the age of twenty walked onto the stage and the man perked his head up high. The woman had dark black hair, just like Emma's. She was wearing orange silk, with silver coins along the end of the shirt and the long train. The girl started to dance to this unusual beat, moving her stomach in all odd ways, that would definitely make anyone blush. Erik feared Emma had gotten out and decided his notes to the managers would have to be written later. He made his way back down to his house by the lake as fast as his feet would let him. When arriving at the dock again, his arm felt numb from peddling so quickly across the lake. The door barged open, and Erik half expected to see the girl scurry down back to her room, but only found the main room empty as before. The grandfather clock struck five and Erik thought about how long the girl had been down there. What kind of monster was he? This was his chance to become a different person and he's blowing it by showing this innocent girl his wraith of his past. He wouldn't have it. The anger and impatience would have to go, and he would have to learn to be susceptible to conversation, whether good or bad. He would simply have to change.

Emma heard a door in the house slam close and she knew the man was home. She finished the last sentence of chapter 11, which was " As for Raoul, he saw nothing either; for, when he had Christine in front of him, nothing interested him that happened behind." A few times Emma shuddered at the words she read in the book. This ghost sounded so familiar yet, she couldn't entirely grasp onto the concept of it and it troubled her. Once again, footsteps were heard coming down the hallway to her room. Emma quickly put the book down onto the night stand next to the bed and pretended to have fallen asleep. A fist pounded on the door, which made the young girl on the bed jump three feet in the air. She righted herself and prepared for the banging to boom through the room. The fist pounded the door once again, except this time the man spoke.

" Emma are you in there?"

Emma smiled at the stupid question. Where else could she have gone?

" I'm coming in, I hope your decent." Emma heard him shuffling around in his pockets to find the key. The lock clicked open and Erik piled into the room only to find the young girl asleep. He felt foolish for barging in so loudly and tip-toed back out of the room. " Goodnight, Emma."

Emma sat there and waited for the footsteps to recede back away from the door. She would have to wait a little longer till she could come out and apologize to the man for being so rude to him. Though in modern day it would just be common curiosity, but things were much different in 1896. It was silent for two minutes until the grand organ started to produce music that made Emma's heart quiver. It had to be a love song, with high notes and a sweet melody. Emma closed her eyes and imagined dancing with Laramie back in the Grand hall of the Paris Opera house. She didn't know exactly when she drifted asleep but she did remember waking up to a cold sweat. Her dream was just a big swirl of colors and emerging out of it was Erik riding a giant panting beast. Then the colors disappeared and she was left with Erik. He stuck out his hand from the horse, and Emma took it. Her whole body was swung onto the horse and they rode away to catch the colors. The dream was like no other and was too hard to recount in words other than strange.

Her stomach growled at her, and she forced herself up from the comfort of her bed. The wooden door was perched open slightly, through it came a growl of anger. Upstairs, the main room was in total chaos, papers thrown everywhere, chairs toppled over and candles thrown from candelabra's. Erik's voice penetrated throughout the main hall, and was coming from the room where the organ had been. Emma tip-toed into the room, and saw Erik, huffing and glowing bright red in the face, with a crumpled up piece of paper in his right hand. He threw out curses for no one in particular. She walked up to the organ and stood to the mans left. Finally realizing the girl was in his room, he jumped up from the bench in front of the organ. Emma sat down where the man had been and started playing a tune from the Play " The Phantom of the Opera."

" Damn them! They think they could slip passed me! Well they'll be sorry... Oh they'll be sorry when I show up tonight!" The angry man pounded his fisted on the writing table, and worked his fingers through his charcoal hair. " Damn them!"

" What is all the yelling about?" Emma said as calm and sweet as her throat would let out.

" The Managers had planned an opera... and without my approval! They think they can sneak around me, but they'll pay!"

Emma stopped playing the keys abruptly and Erik turned around to see what the sudden surprise was. That sounded quite familiar to Emma, but didn't want to mention any of it to Erik, not yet. Though another question came into her light head.

" What's an opera?" Emma asked hardly paying attention to the words that were coming out of her mouth. She began to play the slow lullaby of Music of the Night. Erik stood there gaping at her.

" You honestly do not know what an opera is?"

" No I really don't. I've never had an Opera. Does it taste any good?"

" Silly woman. . .it's not an appetizer. . .it's a style of music. I hardly believe you don't know what an opera is. Do they not have them in the future?"

" They probably do. So, almighty one, what's an opera?"

" Well its..." Erik, turned from the girl and adjusted his mask and smoothed his hands over his jacket. How is he going to explain to this girl what an opera is? "It is a presentation of a storyline, all sung in words. I'm not sure how else to explain it."

" So its like a musical without words spoken."

" Correct... I believe. I know what an opera is myself, but its harder to explain it to one who doesn't have a clue to what it is. I must attend to one tonight, and I hadn't any time to correct matters that need tending. That is what infuriates me so. I shall reserve box five for myself tonight. I must go now and have a word with those Managers."

" Box Five! Oh, boy. I've heard of that before. But it can't possibly be. . .Forget it. Don't take to what I'm saying."

" I shall be back very soon, but I have to go on a small adventure. These managers must feel my wraith and opinion before they dare put an Opera on for the city of Pairs. Please excuse me... Where is that note? I placed it right here before?" Erik looked over to Emma and saw the plain parchment and red lettering he had just finished before the girl interrupted him. " How dare you!"

" This is cleverly written. I would never have thought of this writing:

Gentlemen,

I have just gained knowledge from the morning paper that you will be opening a new Opera to the public. This bit of news intrigues me. I have also realized that you hadn't warned me of this sudden decision. I wish this year to be a good and prosperous one, and do not wish to burn your reputation down once again. I wish our relationship to be a more peaceful one. That is if you can follow my instructions well.

1. My private box shall be rightfully reserved for my use, and my use only. If it be sold, you shall say goodbye to a good year.

2. I have took it upon myself to harvest a new soprano, she shall be returning to you shortly. You will cast her as the lead furthermore.

3. You must tell Madame Giry to take charge of her flock of her so called "dancers". They are too sloppy and need to be put back into place.

If my commands are not met, you will find yourselves cleaning up a new disaster. If you do choose to abide by my requests, I will leave you in peace.

Your obedient confidant,

O. G.

How did you come up with this stuff?" Emma looked over the note once more until Erik impatiently snatched it from her fingertips.

" It is none of you business what I do for a living. I have took it to myself to boil some water for you to bathe yourself in. It is waiting for you in the main bathroom. It is the door all the way down on your right. You shan't miss it, it even says Powder Room on the door. I will return shortly after I deliver this note. There are some chocolates and flan tarts over here if you find yourself hungry, which I bet you are." Erik looked down at Emma's cut and slivered pale hands, which were making their way to the box of sweets. " Dear child, what happened to your hands."

" Well I," Emma flushed magenta, and hid her hands behind her back. Her fingers toyed with the tips of her curls. " I got a little upset but I'm ok."

" Let me see them." Erik held out his hands, waiting for the girls.

" No. That's alright. They're fine now. I cleaned them out."

" Yes, but even if you did clean them out, you still could get an infection, and become seriously ill."

" Even die?"

" Yes, even die." Erik lied.

" Fine." Emma reluctantly unlocked her hands and settled them in his. Erik's grasp was soft and cold, too cold to be human. He barely touched her skin, only making contact every once in awhile. He left the room and came back shortly with a wooden box labeled ' Medic' in scripture. He took out a brown tinted bottle and a cloth.

" This may hurt a bit. I suggest you look away, it might help."

" No, just do it. Is that alcohol? Oh god this will sting."

Erik unfolded the girls hands and placed the cloth to them. He saw her wince and tried to be more gentle in cleaning the cuts. He replaced the bottle and dabbed the cuts with a new cloth. Her skin was raw and pink at the spot, but at least it was cleaned out. Erik left the room again and came back empty handed. He grabbed the note and said farewell to Emma who was wringing her hands to soothe the pain.

" Don't do that!" Erik tried to calm his voice, to bring it down to a softer tone. " It will not help them heal any better if you rub them like that. I suggest you take a bath, it will help the sores. I shall be back soon."

Erik left the house and Emma left to find the bathroom. Erik was right, the room was very easy to see. By the time she had arrived to the bathroom the water had cooled down to a comfortable temperature. The room was a light blue color, with a toilet and a sink, both porcelain white. Her face reflected off the water. The tips of her black hair touched the water and danced in it. Emma stripped off her clothing and sat herself into the water, heaving a great sigh. It was relieving to finally vent herself in a tub. All the stress she's had the last couple of days melted to pure relaxation. The hot water stung her raw palms, but it soothed her achy body. A bar of soap was laying in a basket next to the tub, and so was a sponge carved into a rose. She washed herself and returned to her room to get dressed. There was a note on her bed which was sealed with a red wax cut out of a rose. ' What is it with this dude and roses.' She opened the note and it read:

Emma,

Dress in the best clothing you can find. I hadn't time to shop yet. You will be attending the opera with me tonight. But you must dress appropriately for this occasion. When I return, we will leave immediately, so I beg you to be ready.

Erik


	6. At The Opera

**Chapter 6**

Erik returned to his house in a rush of anger. He had never been so infuriated at those two fools, those so called managers! They were stubborn and rude to him. Don't they know he has much power of their success as much as their operas?

"Those damned managers! Thought Erik was done with his trickery... but they haven't even seen the beginning. . .Yes, plenty of tortures to come!" His boisterous arms threw open the black mahogany wood doors. The first thing he noticed was the distinct smell of roses. "Ah, so the girl did take a bath. I hope she's at least ready to go. Emma, are you ready yet woman. I told you we needed to get a move on when I arrived back."

Erik took off his cape and hat and walked into his room to quickly get changed from his dirty clothes. When he came back out, he heard the familiar swish of satin and looked towards the stairs. There stood Emma, wearing a big gold dress, one that completely showed her shoulders and her collar bones. The girls hair was brushed tame, and curled down to her ribs. Erik gasped and looked away. His eyes didn't expect to see such a lovely thing so quickly. He couldn't look at her all night like this, it would drive him mad. No one can resist a beautiful girl, not even the usual bland Erik. The sound of satin came closer to him and he couldn't stop himself from looking away. He remembered buying that dress for Christine years ago.

" Do you think it looks good? I was afraid it was going to be too tight. But actually it fits quite nice. Maybe I'm losing weight after all!" Emma said, holding her finger tips on her hips.

" You can not possibly wear that tonight. You, can not!" Erik still couldn't look at the girl standing in the middle of the circular gallery.

" But why not? You said I should pick out one that would be suitable, and I thought this one was good enough."

" It is too nice. Please go and change. I told you to be ready when I arrived home! Now we shall be late, and I am not a man to be late to anything! My patience is small right now, and I don't want to yell."

" Your patience is always small and you are yelling!"

" Ah woman! Just go change before I make you!" Erik retorted, running his fingers through his black hair. " I will not ask you again."

" What would you do if I said make me..." Emma saw the man come towards her and she backed down. " I was just kidding Monsieur. I will return with a different dress, any of your preference?"

" There is a blue silk one, it is most likely hanging on the right side." Christine didn't stay long enough for her to wear those dresses. " Hurry up woman!"

The girl turned around, mumbling curses to herself while climbing back down the spiral stairs. The door to her bed chamber flew open and she reluctantly changed out of the beautiful gold dress. Her hands searched the closet for the appointed dress Erik mentioned. Finally touching silk, she dragged the dark blue dress out and smiled at it. It was very pretty, the top was decorated with dark blue flowers and the skirt had a floral pattern on it. The rim of the dress was edged out in black lace. The dress was tighter than the gold dress, but it still felt comfortable. She glanced into the vanity mirror, a faint smile spread across her lips. A spitting image of her mother, the dark hair and light complexion, the way her cheeks were always rosy and the very few freckles that spotted her thin nose. The only things that were her fathers were her bright, screaming amber eyes and her lovely dimples. The girl took one last look and turned away, smiling to herself.

Emma came back to the main room and smiled at Erik. He looked once, then proceeded to the door and opened it. Emma walked out of the house she has spent her entire time in the past and stopped suddenly, insecurity took its toll. She was frightened of the dark, and she thought she distinctly felt moisture in the air. Behind her, the door closed and a set of keys jingled, echoing amongst the vast darkness. Erik grabbed the girls naked arm and led her down the stairs to the dock. Emma still couldn't see a thing and tried to move as little a possible unless her confidant was guiding her. Erik let go of her and jumped into his boat, making the water ripple from his weight.

" Get in the boat Mademoiselle. Right here. . . not over there. Can't you see anything?"

" No actually I'm night blind. I can't see a damn thing!"

" Night blind? I highly doubt there is such a thing."

Erik once again climbed out of his boat and walked behind Emma. He stooped down and placed his arm behind her knees and her shoulders. In one brisk movement, he had her in his arms, but only as casually as he could make it.

" Put me down you prune!"

" As you wish, Mademoiselle." Erik lowered the girl down until her foot touched the water.

" What are you doing! Pick me up. Pick me up!"

" But I thought you wanted me to put you down." Erik chuckled into the dark underworld.

Erik lifted the girl back up and placed her in the boat. He took up the staff and began to push his way through the underground lake, hearing not the soothing rhythm of the waves, but a scratchy voice blurting complaints the whole way across.

" Shut up woman! Your driving me mad!"

Emma said something under her breathe, then replied to the man. " I'm sorry I get nervous when around water. Where are we anyways?"

" Under the Opera Populaire. . .Yes under the Opera house! Now would you shut your mouth?"

" All right fine. . ." Emma smoothed out her dress as Erik sighed at the sudden, relaxing sounds of the lake, until, " Are we almost there yet?" Erik grumbled in frustration and continued to push his way across the lake.

Erik ushered the girl into Box five, pulling the fine velvet chairs back from the ledge. Meanwhile Emma gasped at the view they had of the Opera. It was a perfect view of the stage, just above the audience. There was a slight angle, but she never had a seat this close to anything she went to see before. She walked up to the ledge and looked at the scenery. Emma was standing there for about two seconds before she was jerked away by Erik's forceful fingertips.

" Are you mad! Do you want people to see us!" Emma turned around the see Erik panting like a wild beast. " We must not be seen by anyone!"

" I was just trying to indulge in the fine view. . .why can't people know we're up here?"

" Because I am the Opera Ghost, and no one ever sees the Opera Ghost! In fact, people only hear him. Now please will you just sit down back here. In the second act I will allow you to move up."

" The Opera Ghost, I've heard of that in a book-"

" Emma please, the lights are dimming." Erik whispered as the audience evaporated into silence.

" Oh wow! This is really exciting!"

" That means shut your mouth."


	7. Opera Continued Changing Colors

**Chapter 7**

The chairs were straight up and utterly uncomfortable. The velvet was nice, but barely made a difference in the stiffness of the chair. Emma squinted her eyes to see the stage, mumbling complaints under her breath. Erik reached behind Emma and pulled a tassel. In front of them, a dark red tapestry draped across the ledge. It was translucent from the viewing side, but they were completely hidden from the audience. Erik pushed his chair more closer to the ledge, and motioned Emma to do the same.

" Now we can see better. Are you happy now? Will you stop bickering?" Erik mockingly said as he adjusted his mask.

Emma was about to say something until a women, dressed in gold and pink stepped out onto the stage and started to sing.

" Do you see that box directly across from us?" Erik asked, pointing with his bone-like finger.

" Yea. . . Who are they?"

" They are the Managers of the Opera House. Would you want to see their face change color?"

" Uh, sure? How are you going to do that?"

" Just watch their faces and the color will magically disappear."

Across the theater MM. Debienne and Firmin were enjoying a fabulous night out in their successful Opera House. They had a glass of champagne in them and there was another round being delivered at that exact moment. The sweet bubbly was being carried on a silver tray, and arrived just in time for the big aria. The concierge lowered the tray to the Managers and they both took the glasses whole-heartedly.

" Cheers to five years of success. And not to mention a special cheer to the exorcism of the Ghost." Monsieur Debienne announced.

" And cheers to having our star diva Madame Christine De Chaney come back to us for one last season!" Monsieur Firmin added.

Their glasses clanged together and they both took full gulps of their champagne. Their looks were only pure excitement. They looked at each other and smiled. Their attention was turned back to the opera. Nothing seemed to be happening; in fact, they seemed to be growing more and more happy by the minute.

" I don't see their face changing color."

" Be patient. The wise man once said that " Patience is a–"

" Virtue. Hey, if you can't do it then I would understand. But since you're the big tough phantom."

" He also said " Silence is golden"."

Monsieur Debienne was the first to be distracted by the opera. His eyes looked down toward his stomach. A fierce growl rumbled deep down bellow in his belly. A few minutes later Firmin's eyes were averted to his stomach. They both looked at each other with a deep frown. Their hands caressed their stomach, and their faces started to turn a faint yellow. Monsieur Debienne even put a hand over his mouth.

" Ok, not bad. But I want to really see their faces change color."

" Your wish is my command." Erik cleared his throat and narrowed his stare towards the box across from them. He threw his voice over the audience and into the box across from them. Emma watched Erik's emotionless face, seeing a glee of pleasure in his eyes sparkle through their endless pit of darkness.

Across the audience the managers suffered agonizing pain in their stomach. A soft whisper caressed their ears, and both of them strained to hear what it was. Finally, the tiny whisper broke through and hit them both square in the head.

" It has been too long without the close watch of the ghost, don't you agree? If you ever think about putting on an opera without my consent, expect to be frightened with another misfortune. One that will top the, almost successful, down fall of the opera house. Did you realize that bubbly liquid you gulped down, with your greedy hands, was spiked. Cheers to you as well, my dear managers. Have a wonderful evening." The whisper died off, leaving the two men stumbling over its words. The color in their features drained, leaving a color paler than the moon.

" Not-!"

" Again!"

Both of them men shuffled out of the box, M. Debienne tripping over the chair on his way out. Emma laughed quietly back in box five.

" Bravo Monsieur! Not a bad job! What a shame I couldn't hear a thing you said. May I ask, what is your secret?"

" When one is alone for so long, one needs to find a way to entertain somehow. Ventriloquism is a very interesting hobby."

" Ventriloquism?"

" I mayl teach you some day, but we have missed to much of the opera."

" Oh, of course, we can't miss the opera." Emma added sarcastically.

By the first scene, Emma was completely clueless on what was happening. She knew a girl was in love with some other guy, but that's where all understanding stopped. The on-going singing was starting to take a toll on her head, and she still didn't know what was going on in the play. Every few minutes the girl was tempted to ask questions about what was happening in the opera. After a while, she couldn't contain them anymore.

" Why did she do that?" Emma whispered, nudging Erik with her elbow. Erik looked over at her annoyingly and tried to ignore her.

Five Minutes later. . .

" Does he like her? Do they love each other?" Once again Erik tried to ignore the girl, smoothing over his hair, and rubbing his hands along the arms of the chairs.

Five minutes and thirty-seven seconds later. . .

" Wow that was really high, how does she do that? Oh look, she is. . .wait I'm confused. What the hell is going on? Why did he just take her scarf like that? What an ass. . ." Emma scratched her head in confusion, her headache grew more and more strong. On the other hand, Erik tried everything to ignore the girls questions, even his darling Christine couldn't help him out of this problem.

Two minutes and twenty-two seconds later. . .

" Oh my god, that dude just kissed that other guys hand. What are they gay?'

" This has gone far enough! I cannot continue to sit here and ignore you anymore. You really know how to get under my skin! And it seems you never shut that mouth of yours. We are leaving after this act. That way I can escape from your continuous babbling!" Erik whispered out, trying desperately to keep his voice under a murmur.

" Well excuse me but this is my first opera, how do you expect me to understand everything single thing! I can barely understand what this b-"

Erik clamped his hand over Emma's mouth and motioned her to keep quite. His whole posture tensed in a moments time and his face screwed up into complete concentration. His skull-like head tilted to one side, for his ears were straining to hear something.

" I hear someone coming." Emma pushed off Erik's hand and looked back down at the stage. There was a dancing routine commencing with golds, greens, reds, pinks and silvers all moving into a big lush circle of colors.

" Erik, what are you talking about? All I hear is the music." She turned around expecting to see Erik sitting there, but instead there was an empty seat. Suddenly a box keeper pushed away the back curtain and stood there, his hands full of tiny slips of paper.

" Tickets mademoiselle." The male concierge was wearing a red vest, with a white shirt underneath. He had black pants on with black shoes. He had a long hooked nose, and a thin, ignorant mouth. He held out his hand impatiently, as he placed his other hand on his hip. " Tickets please."

" Tickets. . .? Oh the tickets." Emma said, laughing nervously.

" Yes! The tickets. . .Hand them over please."

" Well I'm afraid that. . .Well. . .um. . ." Emma smoothed over her dress and played with the tips of her hair. " Lets see, the tickets."

" Yes, do you have them? If not then I'm going to have to call for Sécurité."

" Well I don't have them, but. . ."

" Very well, upon my job, I have to take you in. "

" Wait just a second." Emma stood up from her seat. " I said I didn't have them, but my. . . husband does."

" And where is your husband now?"

" He went to the. . .salle de bains." Emma said, hoping she said bathroom and batting her long black eye-lashes at the concierge. He didn't look very convinced. She was about to add onto her story until the snobbish grin on the young mans face disappeared, and turned to an ungodly white. " Monsieur, are you alright? You look white as a ghost."

" This box is haunted Madame, and I advise you to leave it at once. My apologies for interrupting your outing. Have a wonderful time." The concierge said, almost in a full monotone. He turned sharply on his heel and practically fell out from the box.

" What about the tickets?" Emma added, trying to keep her voice under a whisper.

Emma sat back down on the red velvet chair and rubbed the back of her neck. She looked around to see if Erik was back, but he seemed to be still missing. A soprano sung the last note of the first act and the maroon curtains fell to the ground, leaving only the apron left showing.

" Time to leave Emma." Emma jumped up in the air and gasped for breath.

" Holy Mother of Gerard! Where did you come from? You scared me! What did you say to that ticket man? Where did you go, how could you just leave me alone like that! I felt vulnerable. You wicked man, your so. . .Ah! You leave me speechless."

" Lets go _darling_! We don't want to get caught in the crowds." Erik grabbed hold of Emma's wrist and dragged her along the hallways, hiding in the natural shadows the candles cast. They came to an abandoned hallway. From there he scoured the hall, looking closely at the doors, and opened one which said ' Vestiaire de la soprano.'

" What does that say?" Emma said pointing to the words carved into the wood. Erik continued to drag her along "Erik?"

" Soprano's Dressing Room. Keep quite!"

Erik pulled Emma into the dressing room and closed the door. He made his way over to a brilliant mirror, with flowers and angels engraved into the brass. His fingers felt up and down the wall near the mirror, until suddenly they stopped. Erik once again grabbed Emma's warm wrist and pulled her up in front of him to the mirror. She saw herself, in the fine blue silk dress, then Erik in a black suit, an arms length behind her. The white mask was prominent against the darkness. The clueless girl asked what they were doing, and only received a hush out of the man behind her. Soon, the glass of the mirror started to swirl in a rush of silver and gray. Light emanated from the mirror and poured out through the little dressing room. A gasp came up through Emma's throat and Erik pushed the girl closer. At first, she resisted and protested, thinking that it would surely kill her. But the man's reassurance made her more confident. They both walked closer to the light, joining the it and becoming one with the mirror. Emma saw the dressing room on the other side elongate, then she was submerged in darkness. Her body stiffened and her heart raced inside her chest. It took all her might not to scream, cry or to panic. It felt like eternity without the comforting – yet cold– grasp of Erik's finger tips. Erik walked passed the girl, only to prepare the horse which would take them back down to his home. He could feel the angst in the air but mounted any way.

Emma felt around her, desperately attempting to find a wall, or anything to grasp onto. The distinct smell of horses, and the snort of one came through and hit Emma's ears. Though the only thing she thought was that Erik, that prune, had left her.

" Erik!" Emma screamed into the never ending darkness.

No reply.

In the distance, she thought she saw two glowing eyes, but dismissed them to be figments of her imagination. " Erik don't leave me." Her amber colored eyes filled painfully with tears. They steadily began to roll down her naturally rosy cheeks. ' Even if he's a maniacal lunatic, its better then being left alone in the dark.'

" Stop your screaming would you. I am coming up onto your left. I am going to reach down and grab your waist, please do not panic." Erik leaned down on the saddle and grabbed hold of the girls waist. He pulled her up in front of him, into the leather saddle. They shifted uncomfortably in their seat until Erik urged the horse forward. At the sudden movement, Emma entwined her fingers into the horses black mane. They started at a steady walk, down halls and stairways. The further they went, the more thick and cold the air was. Soon the man pushed the horse into a trot, which wasn't that bad to handle, for Emma –an inexperienced rider. They climbed down more hallways and stairs, sometimes ducking, sometimes jumping over things. The air lifted a tiny bit, but only to be replaced by the sensation of moisture in the air. They descended down a massive spiral staircase. After about 5 more minutes of riding, they had reached the bank of the lake. Emma felt the man dismount and lead the horse to a metal rod which stuck up from the ground. He tied the horse onto it and helped Emma down from the saddle. He started to walk towards the boat until he heard Emma's cry of help. He grabbed her elbow and led her to the boat. Erik effortlessly rowed the boat, without break, to the other side of the lake, arriving at his flat. The man jumped out of the boat and onto the dock.

" Crap!"

" What is it now, Woman. Can you not do anything without getting into trouble?"

" I missed the bow of the boat, and my foot went into the water. Now it's all soggy. And I need help out, I can't see the dock." The girl whined, shaking her drenched foot around.

" But I put a lantern right there. You must be blind. Give me your hand! Here. . .no right here! My hand is right here!"

" Found it. Ok lift me up. Crap! There goes the other foot." Erik lifted Emma up onto the dock and could only chuckle at the sight in front of him. They both retired to the house, which was quiet, and comfortable. The sensation of Erik's fingers against her skin lingered, almost like a vibration. She headed down to her room, where as Erik went straight to his room, slammed the door shut, and began to play his organ.


	8. A day in Paris

Chapter 8

It has been three weeks, and in only a few days, it would be thanksgiving for Emma. She would be forcing Erik to celebrate it with her, in which he would "try" to be cooperative. Yes, they both have agreed to try and get along with each other, and you're wondering reader, if it has worked. Well let us just say they don't really bite off each others head, but they definitely don't melt to each others touch. Let me explain readers that, they have simply succumbed to being nice to one another. Erik was fed up with the girls constant whining, and Emma was tired of Erik's arrogance, so in an attempt at some comfort, they decided to change. And it has worked out for the better. We are here now, in Erik's little flat, with Emma singing and dancing in the gallery, listening to her I-pod. Erik is in his 'music room' for lack of words, both content and some-what happy. . . or are they?

" Emma can you stop that droning? I am trying to compose at the moment! All I can hear is your voice." Erik yelled out of the room, to which there was no reply. " Shut up!"

Yet again no response.

Erik pounded his fingers onto the organ keys, attempting to drowned out the screeching of Emma's voice. Finally after trying to be patient, and counting to ten numerous times( a method Emma tried to teach him), he stormed out of the music room to find Emma laying on the ground, making a pretend snow angel. Erik stopped and gaped at the girl, trying to keep his stern look, but broke into a loud chuckle. Emma opened her eyes to find Erik cracking up at her unusual oddities.

" What? It's a tradition. My family and I used to do it when I was younger." Her fingers fished under her long black hair to pluck the earphones from her ears.

" Are you deaf as well as blind? I was screaming at you to shut your damned mouth!" Erik retorted, subsiding from the scene he just saw.

" I was listening to music, Christmas music to be exact. And to be more exact, the Beatles. Ready. . . .! " Emma cleared her throat and prepared herself to sing. " Simply having a wonderful Christmas time, Simply having a wonderful Christmas time! The choir of children sing their song. . .–"

" Please stop your singing. Now two questions for you Mademoiselle. One, how are you listening to music when I have been playing my music, loudly at that and second, who the hell are the. . ._Beetles_? Are they little insects that suddenly grew voice boxes and learned how to sing in key?"

" I never thought I'd be explaining how this works to a 19th century gentleman. Ha, gentleman. . . Anyways, well lets see, actually I don't know how it works, but I'll wing it. Music is stored in memory banks in this device, which when you choose a song, it then travels from the memory banks to these wires and into your ears, which I'm not going to try to explain the anatomy of your ears. Oh and the Beatles, B-e-A-t-l-e-s, aren't bugs, they're a famous group of British singers who gathered together in the sixties– that is to say the nineteen sixties– and formed a band.

"My family and I used to listen to it on Thanksgiving every year. But that has long stopped, now my so called family eats in silence."

" So what do I have to get for this, Thanksgiving?" Erik advanced into the room, and sat onto the red velvet couch. " Is there anything that should be specific?"

" Just the basics, a turkey, mashed potatoes, some cranberry sauce, and stuffing."

" Stuffing? Cranberry sauce? What do you think I am an expert chef?"

" Chill, I know how to make some of these things. I don't think we'll be having stuffing. But we will need to go shopping and soon." Emma propped herself on her elbows and faced Erik on the couch, her hair crossing her chest to lay on the Persian rug.

" Why must you come along? I do think I can manage on my own deary. It would be you that I'd worry about. Plus right now I cannot leave the house. I am in a state of inspiration." Erik smoothed his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp along the way.

" How pathetic!" Emma stood up and stretched her muscles and bones. She tied her hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head.

" I do beg your pardon!"

" With all do respect," Emma added sarcastically. " ' In a state of inspiration.' That's bull shit. It's just an excuse not to go out. Sometimes I wonder how you survive."

" Please, do not start with me. We have had a week of peace, don't end it now."

Emma walked around the coffee table and sat right in front of Erik, his body once again tensing at the mere proximity of a woman. He stood up and started walking towards his music room, in an attempt to avoid the up-coming conversation. He walked into the room and sat at the bench in front of his organ and readied himself to play. But the nagging voice interrupted his peace.

" Erik please, I think it would be good for you to talk about it. I'm not one to judge I promise. Just try to work through your prob-" Erik leapt off the music bench and came face to face with the girl, his hand pounding into the wall next to her. Her eyes grew wide, and her breath stopped. He turned around and exited the room. Emma tried one last time. " Erik please, just tell me!"

" It's this, understand now, THIS! " Erik pointed to the half mask on the right side of his face. " You would think I'd be used to the stares that people rudely throw, but the pain of peoples blinded thoughts still burn my skin. Just a glance in my direction and they all shy away! All I want is to be like everyone else. Erik is a man, and nothing else. Society doesn't see that in him."

" I am not just society, I'm your friend. And if you don't believe that, than at least see me as someone who has the same problem as you."

" Problem? You think this is just a problem to be solved! This is my life, this is my dungeon! You can not even imagine how I feel. You would never understand."

" I have lived with this problem for about three weeks now, I think I'm starting to get a hint of what is bothering you. To tell you the truth, I don't even realize you wear a mask anymore."

" But I am sure if I took it off you would be begging me to put it back on! I do not have to listen to you right now! Leave me be!" Erik continued through the gallery and went into his room, slamming the door behind him. Emma jumped at the loud bang of cracking wood. She walked up to it, and gently knocked onto the door. Erik mumbled sentences inside and threw something at the door, for something banged against it. Emma exhaled and tried as much as possible to regain her posture.

" Ok, let's forget what I had said, and like society, just go shopping."

" No, no that's quite alright. I am done fighting with you today. You can go shopping on your own."

" But. . ."

" I am not leaving this house Emma, and that is final! I am positive that you know how to shop on your own."

" But. . ."

" Damned woman, just leave me be!"

" I don't have any money." Emma told him, a frown growing deeper on her face. Erik jerked open the door and walked back into his music room with Emma following behind him. He opened up a small wooden box and took out a handful of money slips and shoved them into Emma's fingers.

" Now you do. Take the boat across the lake, you can ride the horse out into the streets if you would like, then go to the top of the street and turn right. That will take you to all the shops and taverns. Then you will be free to buy what you'd like. Good day, and I expect you to be home in four hours, that is at five o'clock sharp. Here is a list of some simple things that I am in need of. Be careful. Though I find I do not need to tell that to you, mademoiselle."

Emma scold the man and walked out of the music room. Erik sat back down on the red velvet bench and smoothed his hair over. ' If I keep doing that, my hair may fall out.'

Emma grabbed her cloak and went out the front doors only to meet darkness. Would she ever get used to being in the dark?

Her heeled boots clicked against the wooden stairs and along the dock. She took the lantern off its post and sat into the boat.

" What am I going to do with him. We'll never get along if he's reluctant to talk about anything. And now look. . . I'm reduced to talking to myself. Oh well. . . Damn him!"

Emma wrapped her fingers around the loom of the oar and pushed her way across the lake. The waves slashed up and down the sides of the boat, producing a hidden rhythm. Though Emma didn't like the dark, the sound of the water did relax her. The boat ride was long and exhausting, but it gave the girl some time to think about everything and how amazing it was that she was staying in the phantom's so called "lair". She had finished reading Leroux's book and finally caught on that the man she was staying with was indeed the Opera ghost. The only difference from Erik and the book was his mask, and the fact that in person he is a bit more sane than how he acts in the book. Emma did hear him one night talking to himself about a girl named Christine, the possible girl in the book. But if the obsession in the book is as bad as real life, she was going to have to face the fact that this Christine might came back, and Emma isn't good with another girl in her territory. Her competitiveness reaches unreasonable heights.

The boat hit shore and Emma jumped out, frightened to see the boat receding back into the lake by itself. Then again just last week she saw the infamous torture chamber, and a few weeks ago walked right through a mirror, so anything is possible when living with Erik. She made her way to the underground stable room where the horse was being kept. The beast was standing, chewing on hay and swatting his tail in thin air. She called the beast over by the name of Caesar, and saddled it. This saddling technique took her two days to learn with Erik biting her neck off, yelling at her every mistake. Today she did it perfectly and yelled out her excitement into the empty shore. Leading the horse out of the stable, Emma felt the sensation of someone watching her. She took the time to look around the area to see if anyone was around but dismissed it. It has been weeks since she has been outside. Placing her foot into the saddle ring, Emma mounted the beast and adjusted her weight. ' There, that wasn't so bad.' She led the horse to the Rue Scribe exit and pushed the steel barred gate aside and coaxed the horse into a walk.

On her way up to the street, she took in all the autumn scenery that her eyes had missed for so long. The trees were turning a golden brown, and the ground was covered with dead leaves. The sky looked as if it threatened for rain, and the wind bit at her face, sending her hair dancing behind her. Big puffs of white clouds floated out of her mouth every time she would breathe. Her hands wrapped around the reins and her feet tried to relax in their place. The city was much older looking, and the Eiffel tower was still shining over the city of Paris, looking brand new. Emma turned the corner and saw a street lined with shops on the right side, even places to keep your horse. She rode up to the first shop that suited her, it was called Pen and Parchment Inc. She tied the horse to the rail they had placed for horses and entered the shop. The smell of paper and ironically the smell of pencils invaded her nose. The aroma started to take shape to what her crazy Scotch Grandma's Attic would smell like, dust and mold. She picked up twelve rolls of parchment, six of which were manuscript, two bottles of ink and two feathered pens. The cashier looked at her with a narrow eye and told her the cost. Emma stood there for a good minute trying to figure out what to give the man. His glasses slid down to his nose, while his hand scratched his fading silver hair. When she handed him the money, he raised a bushy eye-brow and handed half back. The man placed the items in a small paper bag and Emma grabbed it, turned around and left the shop.

It was basically the same situation for all the stores, and by four o'clock, her arms were full of bundles and packages. Finally she was done, and it was time to return to the lake. While walking back to her horse, the front of Emma's black boot caught the edge of a stone on the ground and sent her sprawling to the ground, her packages flying like confetti on New years. Her knee crashed into the ground, sending waves of pain up through her leg. Her face flushed red when she realized everyone was staring at her. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a cloak swishing down an alleyway, but didn't have time to recollect what she was seeing. A hand had settled itself on her arm, and was lifting her up. When she turned around to see who had helped her (expecting to see Erik), she saw a charming young man, with brown hair and green eyes. He wore a suit, more modern then what Erik has worn, but the same idea. He flashed a smile at Emma and her knees melted from under her. Before she could hit the ground again, the man caught her and held her up.

" Are you alright Miss? Do you need to sit down?" The man said, giving her a concerned look.

" Oh no I'm fine monsieur, was just a bit flustered from falling. Thank you for helping me up. Wow, look at my stuff, it's every where. He's going to kill me!" Emma giggled and started to pick up the bundles of packages off the ground.

" Here, let me assist you." The man said in a smooth British accent. He bent down and started to help Emma pick her things off the ground. They set her stuff next to a store and sat down on a bench, to hide from the brutal autumn wind. " I am afraid I hadn't caught your name."

" It's Emma and-" The man picked up the girls hand and politely kissed it with his full, lush lips. Emma blushed. " And your name Monsieur?"

" I am Tuckrus Arnette. Most people call me Tucker though."

" Nice to meet you Monsieur Arnette. You don't sound french, are you here on business?"

" Actually my father sent me here to begin my life. And please, call me Tucker. I am suppose to be the new patron for the Opera Populaire." ( How ironic!)

" Oh, really. I live right by there. Maybe I'll see you sometime. What does a patron do exactly?" Emma looked into his eyes and only saw his pupils.

" Well, I guess you could say I support the arts and help them finance their corporation."

The two of them commenced in deep conversation. They occasionally laughed at stupid jokes, smiled at each other in delight and reached almost every subject from music to politics.

" I don't really mean to be rude, but I need to start heading back home. Need to start cooking dinner." Emma glanced at her little watch and gasped to see it was four forty-five.

" But wait, would you like me to escort you home? I could help you carry your packages."

" No that's alright. Erik wouldn't like that."

" Your husband I take it?" Tucker lowered his head and stood up, towering over Emma. She hadn't realized how tall he was.

" No actually, just a friend. But I really must be going. Thank you for helping me. Maybe I'll see you another time?"

" How about tonight? In the park across the Opera? We could talk more."

" It's too soon, but maybe some other time. Bye Tucker, good day."

Emma returned to Caesar and placed some of the packages in the saddle bags that were hanging down on the sides. She was left with a few packages to carry home. The wind pushed against her back as her feet dug into the horses side to start it into a trot. It played with her cloak and her hair, producing goose bumps down her body. Her knee pulsated with horrible pain, and Emma could feel the stickiness of blood running down it. They arrived at the Rue Scribe and entered. The underground lake gave no sympathy in warming the freezing girl. After returning the horse to the stable, she was surprised to find Erik, waiting in his boat, sitting on the stern of it, his hands and legs crossed. The all too familiar rigid look was on his face and Emma knew that he didn't hold any good news.

" Are you unable to tell time woman? It is five minutes past. I thought I told you to come home at five sharp? Maybe you failed to hear me correctly."

" I'm sorry Erik, but I tripped and fell. I think I scraped up my knee and I think it's bleeding. Could you take a look at it when we're back at the house?"

" We are not going any where until you tell me who that boy was that you were having a conversation with?"

" That was you I saw in the alley way. Erik, why were you spying on me? You could have just come with me stup-"

" Answer the question Emma." Erik boarded off the boat and came closer to see the girl. Her cheeks were magenta and her nose was as red as a rose. He tried to sound a bit more calm. "Please."

" He helped me off the ground and we introduced each other. That was it."

" Did you mention me?"

" Yes, I told him I was staying with you. But, but I didn't tell him where I was staying, I promise." Emma grabbed the saddle bags and held one out for Erik to carry. He grabbed it and returned to the boat, she quickly followed, fearing he would leave without her.


	9. Thanks for Nothing Dinner

Chapter 9

Erik woke from his five hour slumber to metal clanging and the sound of Emma cursing. He groaned and his body ached from the physical pacing he did all night. His body has grown accustomed to sleeping since the girl has arrived, the cause is probable. The constant argues and running back and forth from her bed chamber, back up to the main room and back down again began to take effect after the tenth cycle. His hands traveled through his hair while his body righted itself on the couch. It had to be at least eight o'clock and already Erik was agitated at her. Turning his head at his organ, he rose and trudged over to the monstrosity. The ivory keys tickled his fingers and pulled him into their little game. They had such a strong power over him, it was hard to ever refuse. And how could he? These keys had been his only escape through the toughest times of his life. Never had they judged him or repelled him in anyway. His fingers aligned themselves and began to play a quiet lullaby, smooth and pleasing, unlike his usual hard and vigorous tunes played. The music played louder and Erik grew more infatuated, leaving present day and traveling to those far away memories of Christine standing next to him, singing and occasionally laughing with him. He felt her warm hands on his shoulders, then around his neck. He felt her soft, virginal lips amongst his, and his lips craved to taste those sweet lips once again. Christine turned around, sliding her small delicate hand across his face, and left him. Left him to sulk in his ugliness and his self pity, to forever wallow in his despair. Why did she taunt him so, why was she still in his day dreams? Has it not been enough torture?

Erik felt the sensation of warmth on his back, and snapped out of his dream. The contact was light and curious. Erik turned his head around, half expecting to see Christine, but saw only Emma, with her black hair flowing down to her ribs. She mouthed something, but he couldn't grasp on to what is was.

" What?" Erik said, nudging her hand away. A small look of hurt fell upon her amber eyes.

" Are you alright, I heard you crying, so I came over to see if you were okay." Emma spoke sensitively, choosing her words wisely in order to avoid another argument.

" I'm fine. You were causing so much noise I could no longer sleep. Must you be so loud at this early hour?"

" I'm cooking for Thanksgiving. You must get an early start on cooking if you want to eat by four. Do you want to help me?"

" Dear girl, if I knew how to cook, then I wouldn't have to smuggle food from the Opera's kitchen now would I? Besides, I would only get into your way. I'd rather stay in here and play my music."

" And be a party pooper! Then at least play some seasonal music. That way I can get inspired to decorate the rest of your little crypt you have going down here."

" Seasonal? What do you mean the rest!" Erik questioned, his eyes murdering the girl in front of him. Emma walked out of the room and headed back into the kitchen. " Emma, what have you done."

" Come out and see Erik. I have a feeling you'll love it."

Erik walked out of his safe house and entered what he thought was the main room. Every column had red bows on them, the couch had a green blanket over it, and on top of the mantel, were little designs containing pinecone's and chestnuts. The smell was of pine, and out of the corner of his eye, a green mass was sitting rather close to the door. Erik swung around to find a pine tree cut down and trimmed, decorated with tiny bows and tinsel of green, red, gold and silver. Though it wasn't that bad of a decoration, it angered him that Emma did all of this without his consent. But to have a real Christmas, to actually celebrate a holiday was a foreign sensation to him.

" It's not too virulent. I am annoyed that you didn't ask me for permission. I will let you keep it up till after Christmas. But after that you must promise to always ask me before doing anything in my home. Do you understand?"

What was he doing? Why isn't he mad at her, why is he letting her go?

" Really! You mean I can keep it up? You don't want to tear everything down?"

Erik sighed and smoothed over his shirt. How could he let this young girl take over his house? It was a scary thought, but he was exhausted of fighting and didn't wish to start a fresh one.

" If you must. What are you planning on cooking for dinner?"

" I have the turkey in the stove right now, and I'm attempting to make a pie. The potatoes are skinned and are waiting to be cooked in the oven."

" Sounds. . .appetizing. Well I shall be in here if you need me for anything."

" Fine. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

Erik returned to his music room as Emma parted to slave over dinner. They both were coexisting today, neither crossing each other's path. Erik played his glorious music while Emma attempted to do her best at cooking. While throughout those few hours, Erik tried to ignore the constant cursing, metal clanging and things falling. But when the aroma of something burning entered his music room, it was quite hard to ignore. He abandoned his new tune that was produced in those few hours and went for the kitchen door. Pushing it open, he entered a room filled with smoke, one so thick it started to strangle Erik's breathe. If Emma has been in here this whole time, she mustn't be well. Erik looked through the sheet of smoke, but saw no figure amongst it. He called out her name in hope of hearing a cry back. When a whimper came through the smoke, Erik followed it to the best of his ability, until he came upon a shape. She sat with her head tucked into her hands, and her elbows rested on her knees. She was crying, and her cries where thick and ruthless.

" Emma, what happened? We need to get out of this room. Come. Here take my hand." Erik held out his hand, waiting patiently for her to take it, but was only greeted with another sob.

" Its all my fault, Erik! My aunt was right, I'm a worthless girl who can't do anything. I can't even cook a turkey."

" Emma come on we need to get out of here." He coughed as the smoke wrung his throat of breath.

This time Erik didn't wait for her to grab his hand. His cold, boney fingers wrapped around her upper arms and pulled her up to her feet. Erik turned towards the door, but heard Emma yell his name. When he turned around, he found Emma on the ground. Her lifeless body was there, open for any advantage. Erik picked her frail body, warm and lifeless in his arms, and carried her out of the room. His heart raced at the close contact, though the instinct to help the girl was stronger than anything. He laid her softly down on the couch and set off to open the doors to his house so the smoke could filter out. After about thirty minutes, the kitchen was clear of smoke, and Erik was left with the clean up.

The grandfather clock struck midnight with it's harmonious tune. Emma lifted her eyes slowly. The living room was dark except the glowing fireplace, its embers lit and gold. Her head lifted from its place on the couch pillow. The nerves in her body were achy, and her head pounded out a rough beat. Groaning, she circled her temples until the pain receded. Emma swung her feet over the end of the couch and placed them onto the cold, dry stone. Her mouth let out a screech, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure in the doorway from the music room twitch. It was walking towards her, a slow stride. The figure was tall and lean, a white mask shone out above all things. Emma stood all the way up and rubbed her eyes. The hazy memory of the turkey catching on fire, the smoke filling the kitchen, and the point at which she fainted, made her sit back down. Erik came into the golden light which emanated from the fireplace. His face gleamed a light vanilla, and his eyes burned with a passion Emma never saw before. He reached over the small bookcase next to the door and turned a key-shaped dial. Light poured into the room from the jet candles which were scattered along the wall. Exhaustion fled Erik's face as he walked a bit farther in the room.

" I see you must be feeling better now. You gave me quite a scare."

" So you were worried about me then." A smile crept upon Emma's pale face and a glimmer of affection in her golden eyes. " Is the phantom starting to soften?"

" Heaven's no! I certainly wasn't talking about you, I was talking about my kitchen, you foolish woman." Emma's heart sunk, until she saw a glimmer in his eyes.

" I warned you about that! I asked you to join me, but you refused. So it's not entirely my fault!" The girl stated. Her back twinged with pain, she figured it was from fainting.

" You see, two inexperienced chef's would have caused this whole building to burn down, don't you agree?" Erik bantered, while taking a seat in his favorite chair to the right of the couch. He sat down heavily and rested his ankle on to the top of his knee.

" Didn't you already do that?" Emma said through clenched teeth. She tried to suppress her laughter.

" But mine was intentional. Fortunately, I knew what I was doing."

An uncomfortable silence fell upon them, until Emma cleared her throat. Erik looked up at her, his eyes were deep with curiosity.

" You seem completely different from what I've read and saw. They made you so malicious in the book, and in the play they made you too...what's the 'appropriate' word, flamboyant."

" I beg your pardon? Where have you read about me? The play? Flamboyant? I demand answers!"

" Chill, let me go get the book and my I-pod and I'll explain everything to you, if you can handle it."

" Mademoiselle, your have no idea what I can handle."

Emma went to retrieve her things from her chamber, and returned to find Erik pacing in the main room. His hair was all askew, probably from running his hands through it, and his pale shirt was almost all the way unbuttoned. She cleared her throat to announce herself, and Erik turned to her at once. His eyes reveled wary and his body language shone nervousness.

" Are you sure you're ready for this. It's a lot of information."

" Just tell me. . . please. I want to know what people think of this monster in the future. I want to know all their crude remarks and devilish taunts."

" Actually you're way wrong. Some people worship you, and worship the people who portray you for a living."

" Why?"

" Let me explain. In the 1920's, the first Phantom of the Opera movie was made. It, by far, is the closest replica of your life I have seen. There are a few glitches, but those are tolerable. That movie triggered many more to come, some famous, others were made to be forgotten. Then in 1984, a man by the name of Andrew Lloyd Webber had the idea of making a play out of your life. Of course there was a play before that, but Webber's was much more popular. The play portrayed your undying love for the young soprano Christine, but it also showed you killing off Joseph Buquet, and bribing Christine with De Chaney's death. The music in that play, cause peoples hearts to stop, and their breath short. Even though it wasn't you in person, they felt your hurt and love. . ." She paused to look at Erik's facial feature. It was a mix of shock and attention. Becoming more and more impatient, Emma continued her story of the flight of the Phantom." There's also two books that are relatively amazing for people. One is called The phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux, the other is Susan Kay's Phantom. One tells your story from a journalist perspective– Gaston's. The other tells it from everyone's perspective. Both amazing and heart wrenching."

" So what you are attempting to tell me, is that in the future, people. . .love me?"

" In fact, some peoples obsession is so strong, they write fan stories about you, others wish you were alive. Some say they wish you were their Angel of Music. My friend, a complete fan, I met her in my math class, gave me Gaston Leroux's book for a present, and she described me the others. Though I have seen the play, it didn't dawn on me until about a few days after I arrived here that you were the phantom. Now I get to live every fan girls dream. But I think you should listen to your theme song, and Music of the Night. Tell me what you think at the end of the songs." The girl walked over to Erik and attempted to put the ear plugs into his ears. The man shied away and cursed.

" What on earth are you doing woman. Would you restrain yourself, before I have to."

" Erik," Emma laughed. " I was just trying to put on the ear plugs. . . So you can hear the music?"

" Oh, yes of course..." Erik grunted. He lowered his head to allow Emma to put on the ear plugs. " Tell me when you are going to- AH!"

" Sorry! I didn't realize the volume was all the way up."

" What is this rubbish?" Erik questioned. " Shake your tail feather? What, now they're singing, if you call this singing, about birds?"

" No that's not the song I meant for you. Just hold on a moment, I need to get to the Library. . . Ok theater. . . Ah 'Phantom of the Opera'."

Erik was shocked at the sudden beat. Though it wasn't the instruments he was used to, the tune was catchy. The lyrics described a girl who was declaring that this Phantom was taking over her ability to function right, and if she should continue to sing with him. Erik walked back over to his seat and sat down, his eyebrows fixed in a furrow. He rested his elbows on his knees and aligned his fingers up to one another. From what Emma could see, the man looked like he was in deep meditation, as if trying to decipher a different language, which– in his case – might be true. At the end of the song, his eyes went up into a surprised look, and then almost immediately his face returned to the concentrated look. His fingers reached up to his ears to take out the ear plugs but Emma stopped him and said there was on last song for him to hear. It was called Music of the Night. Those fixed eyes melted into a gaze down at the stone floor, and the glimmer disappeared. It was obvious the man was placed under the song's undeniable spell, a trance which would only lift if it was stopped, or if it is over. Emma sat on the couch and stared into the fire, a bit of home sickness rendered her heart. She hasn't been outside, other then to go shopping, but that didn't serve any comfort. She longed to watch the trees sway, and the leaves swirl. She missed the freedom to go outside and do what ever her heart desired. But Erik had a watchful eye on her, and she knew it.

" That song, Music in the-"

" Of the night. . ." Emma corrected, but then frowned at the look Erik was giving her. " Well, you said it wrong."

" Music_ of_ the Night was very-"

" Amazing! Everyone loves that song, its so trance like!"

" Would you stop interrupting me and let me finish?"

" Sure, continue all-mighty one."

" It was a rhetorical question my dear. The song was entrancing yes, but it weakened at the end. The message that I received was that 'The Phantom' wanted to usher the girl into his bed. Which, may I add, is uncivilized and just plain ungentlemanlike. And to add to that, my intentions for Mademoiselle Daae were only for her success, and none other."

" You are one of a kind! You can't compliment anything, even when deep down inside you really liked it. Just tell me the truth."

" Very well, I find you highly annoying and oppressive." Erik scoffed, chucking the head-phones and I-pod to Emma, who was glaring at him on the couch. Her nose puffed out air like a desert storm.

" Oppressive! Oppressive! You find me oppressive! Why do I find that so hard to believe! I'm the one who is trying to edge you onward, away from your past. I have not once been oppressive. I believe it is you who is oppressive and arrogant and the immature one! You can't take one thing seriously! No wonder. . ." Emma caught herself before saying anything. Her hand impulsively shot up to her lips.

" No wonder what! Go on Emma, say it. . .say it!. . .Fine I'll say it for you. No wonder Christine left me, am I correct!"

" No! That wasn't what I was going to say. What I was going to say. . .was that no wonder you never have any close friends. You always push them away, or you are too arrogant to talk to." Emma glanced quickly over at Erik. He stood there, eyeing her suspiciously. After a moments pause, she found the will to continue. "I find it hard to balance these two. Every day I feel I must watch what I say because if I end up saying something wrong, you'll scream in my face. I don't want that. All I want is a friend. I'm alone in this world right now and apparently I'm your only friend. So we mind as well get the best out of it. And. . .I'm sorry for freaking out, but someone had to tell you, and I was the only one who could do it. Here let's make a deal, I will never leave you alone unless you find some reason to kick me out!" Emma insisted, sticking her hand out to Erik to shake.

" But why would you want to stay with me? Nobody ever wanted to stay with me, not even my own mother!" His eyes were filled with fearful sadness.

" Because I am not like others. I find you very formidable and sometimes even fun to be around. Only if you weren't so, bipolar. . . anyways, is it a deal?"

" Fine . . . and I will try to be a bit more kind. . " Erik shook Emma's hand and sat back down into his chair. His finger's traveled through his charcoal hair.

The girl fought the exhaustion laying heavy on her eyelids. Her stomach growled at her, warning her to feed it. " I'm actually a little hungry. Was any food saved from the smoke out?"

" No. . ." Erik answered absent mindedly. Feeling her eyes on him, he snapped out of it and tried to think of something. ". . . But I do have an idea. Emma, go get your cloak, we will be dinning tonight. Nothing fancy so there is no need to get excited. As for I, I will have to retrieve a few things before we leave. Hurry along now, I want to do this quickly."


	10. An Unusual Outing

My dearest Readers,

I have not talked to you in such awhile. I hope you are enjoying this story. It may be complex at times but still, it is a story. I would like to have criticism and also compliments in that is ok. If you think my story is stupid or boring.. Please tell me. And for those who have been reading from the beginning, you are my dearest peers. I think about pleasing you guys day and night over and over. This fic is for you guys, my support system and I love that! ( You know who you are!)

LOVE,

Iam-the mask

Chapter 10

Erik led Emma through the dark tunnels and stairways into the entwined labyrinth beneath civilization. Emma felt that her night vision was improving, and could start to make out shadows in the dark. Erik clung to the edge of Emma's fingertips while walking through his playground. He turned down a narrow, broken up hallway, and began to walk up a steady incline. Emma trudged up the hallway, finding it rather difficult to walk. She stopped Erik to rest, but he instructed they must keep walking or they'll miss the right moment. After the short two second rest, Erik quickened their pace, causing the girl to stumble while walking. At the same time, she dragged her feet, and the tip of her foot caught onto a cracked cement stone. Her knees gave way and she braced for the face-to-floor impact, but Erik was there in a heart beat to catch her in motion. He lifted her back into a standing position, simultaneously placing his hand on the lowered ceiling.

" You clumsy fool. Come, we are almost there."

" Wait, Erik my foot is in pain!"

" Sh! They'll hear us. You must keep quite."

Exactly above them Emma heard the bustle of footsteps, hurriedly making their way around the location they were under. Erik's unoccupied hand accompanied the one on the lowered ceiling. Emma saw through Erik's white shirt, his muscles flexing at the force needed to be put forth to lift the stone. The lowered ceiling then rose above him and he disappeared into the opening. Emma walked under the opened hole and looked up to see a maze of pulley systems and curtains.

They were behind the stage.

" Why are we here?" Emma questioned, rolling her ankle to soothe the pain.

" The stage hands just left for their break. Now you must keep quiet or they will come back and give us unwanted attention."

Erik bent down and placed his cold hands under her arms and lifted her out of the trap door. Emma gawked at the mans hidden strength, it was rather attractive. She blushed at her childish thought, and bit her lip to hide the smile. Emma saw in front of them the stage-hands walking on and off the stage, putting away scenery and props. Erik shoved Emma behind a wall and they both pressed against it, their hearts racing. The Phantom wasn't used to portraying his usual sneaky self, and Emma has never been here before. Erik listened for the babbling voices to descend away, which took about five minutes until the coast seemed to be clear. Erik inched his way out, looking over at the stage.

It was empty.

He signaled the girl to come forward. He walked over to a ladder that climbed to the top of a ledge, and started to make his way up. It then lead to the cat walk which was set overtop of the stage. Emma followed shortly behind him attempting to concentrate on each step, ensuring herself not to fall. The green dress she wore was constantly getting in her way, and she had decided it would be the death of her someday. Erik began to ascend the second ladder and by the time the girl reached the ledge, he was at the top of the catwalk, waiting for her to come up. Emma tried to hurry, even though she was terrified of heights. A few times her foot slipped out from under her and while her heart skipped a beat, Erik tapped his foot impatiently. Once at the top, the girl refused to look down and stared directly at Erik's back, keeping a short distance between them. At the end of the walkway, Erik jumped from the catwalk onto a beam that was attached to another wall. Emma froze at the end of the catwalk, she couldn't jump that. The phantom sensed that something was wrong and looked back.

" What? Come on jump. Lets go woman I don't have time for this. If you want to eat, you'll have to cross this."

" I can't. I know I'll miss and I'll fall to my death. Did I ever tell you I'm afraid of heights?"

" You must have left that out on everything else you talked about during your stay." Erik teased. He moved back to the end of the beam and extended out his hand towards her.

" Shut up! I. . .can't do it. You'll drop me!"

" Just grab it. I promise I will not drop you."

Emma grabbed the mans hand, closed her eyes and leapt forward. She felt herself fly over the gap and land safely in the mans arms. At once he let go of her and walked towards the wall. Emma followed right behind him, anticipating another leap, but oddly Erik paused at the wall, and pushed at a blank spot. After about five seconds, a door sized portion of the wall slid back to reveal an old, cobwebbed crawlspace. The Phantom crouched down and walked through it, and without choice, Emma was right behind him.

" There has to be dozen's of ways to get to where ever you plan on taking us, why did we have to go that way?" The girl demanded, hitting the sole of Erik's shoe.

" Because I felt like having a little fun. There is not many other ways we could have gone. This was just a quicker way."

They crept along the crawlspace for about two minutes, turning left and right. Soon the smell of food taunted Emma's nose and caused her stomach to turn and growl once more. Erik stopped suddenly, sending Emma right into the mans back end. Erik grunted and teasingly told her to be very quite, and if she was good, they would go back a different way. Emma grinned and punched his foot again.

After some time, Erik pushed open an air vent and slipped down into the Opera kitchen. It was barren, not a soul in sight. Emma jumped down and howled in pain when landing on her feet. She righted herself and followed Erik deeper into the huge kitchen. The man stopped and turned around to her, a questioning look on her face.

" What are you exactly in the mood for?"

" I could really go for some soup. I don't really care what kind."

Erik's head perked up and he narrowed his eyes.

" Stay here, I'll be right back. Unfortunately the kitchen isn't as empty as I thought. It will go dark for only a few moments, but it will be ok." Emma waiting at the spot where Erik told her to. She was getting used to following his orders after this endless journey. All she wanted was dinner!

The room darkened as Erik had informed, and Emma's eyes were searching the room for anything. Shapes and shadows started to form, but nothing detailed. She lent against a counter and melted down into a sitting position. Emma jerked when she heard a shrill, and whispers, then nothing.

What has the man done now?

The room flooded with light again, and Emma saw Erik coming to her with a platter consisting of two covered plates. He motioned her to come with him, and she– which was starting to get predicted– once again followed. They hid in the shadows and hung tightly against the walls till they were almost camouflaged. Erik stopped at a dark tapestry with a wilting rose on it. Behind it was a door, which was of a dark mahogany color, unlike the light brown the walls were. The way they went back down was a bit longer, but much more simple than the way they came up. On the boat ride back, Emma suddenly felt the urge to address Erik.

" Thank you for doing this and I'm sorry about our Thanksgiving dinner. It was my fault we had to do this." The girl confessed.

" Nonsense. I used to do this every week, it is nothing new to me. And you were hungry, I couldn't let my guest starve. Though it would be so easy."

" Shut up! Just accept what I say before I push you into the lake!" Emma assured, pushing the back of Erik's knee inward.

" Don't do that! Do not tempt me to throw you into this muck. . .I assure you, you wouldn't come back up my lady." Erik added, trying to make it sound as if he were serious, but only ended up chuckling.

" That's a bit disturbing Erik, but I'll let it slide. So what did you get?"

" Well, from what was available, I grabbed a bowl of minestrone and a bowl of clam soup. Which will it be?"

" I hate seafood, so it will be Minestrone, if you don't care."

They arrived back at the house, Emma took off her cloak and Erik took a seat on his favorite chair. He placed the bowl of Minestrone on the coffee table in front of the couch, and tried to eat some of his clam soup. His stomach did tell him he was hungry but for some reason, it didn't feel right to be eating at a time like this. Suddenly, the thought of actually having a woman in his house, without her fearing him made him smile. Emma sat down on the couch and began to eat her soup.

" What are you smiling about, did you poison my soup?"

" My dear girl, that would be too tragic. I would simply have to give you a special lozenge to stop your throat from producing any words."

" Oh, Erik. You are always so... weird!"

Erik chuckled to himself. He picked up his spoon and took a sip of the rich, creamy clam soup. After they were finishing eating, Emma said goodnight and went down to her bedroom. Erik sat for a while, thinking about nothing in particular. The fire died down until only orange embers remained. The clock struck twelve and Erik went to his room to sleep for the night.


	11. A White Christmas

Chapter 11

Christmas Eve

Emma walked up from her bed chamber wearing a red velvet house coat, in her hand she held two santa's hats that she had made over the few weeks from Thanksgiving. The quarrels between her and Erik had died down tremendously after that night. Both started to be nice to each other, well kind of. Some days they wouldn't talk that much, other days they would joke around with each other.

Tonight Erik felt depressed. He had another passionate dream about Christine. They were starting to get more and more intense. This dream was different, his face was normal, there was no deformity and no more mask. Christine loved him and they lived peacefully together. Christine smiled at him, a real smile. She hugged him and kissed him like he was the love of her life. Then he woke up and he was back in his lair, with his mask and his ghastly features. Is normalcy so hard to ask for. . .?

His fingers traced his twisted lips, circling the abnormal swell of them, attempting to attract the sweet kisses he received in his dream. Emma walked in and gave him a wide smile. He only stared at her, his mood too heavy to be affected by her usual tranquility. Her smile faltered and she proceeded farther into the room. Erik stiffened and moved to get up and leave. He didn't want to snap something at her, to let his desperation be burned on her. All he wanted was to be alone, for once he wanted to be by himself.

Emma looked into his eyes, those deep eyes that unveiled all his emotions. Something was on his mind, and she wanted to find out what is was. If it was that Christine girl, she was going to strangle him!

" All week you've been moping around the house. Yesterday you didn't even come out of this room. Erik what's wrong now?"

" It is none of you business. Haven't I told you to stop digging into my affairs." Erik snapped, his hand shielding his eyes, the burning sensation of salty tears formed in his eyes. He knew if he talked about it, he wouldn't be able to contain them anymore. His head lowered farther down till his chin almost touched his chest.

" I know, but I don't want a sour thumb on Christmas. Just for one day, be happy. Even if you kill me afterwards. At home, this would be my favorite holiday. The smell of burnt wood mixed with the strong scent of pine. . .white snow flakes falling outside the window, while I sip a cup of hot chocolate. I'm afraid to say I'm actually homesick, never in my life would I guess I would. Anyway, Christmas is very important to me, and it would make me glad if you would at least act happy to be here."

" Emma, it is not my fault that you are homesick, or that you are even here! Do not insist on telling me that I need to be happy in my own home."

" But these last few weeks have been actually enjoyable. We talked to each other and joked around. What happened. . . ? I think I might have a hunch."

Erik looked up and glared at the girl, his eyes throwing daggers at her. His face furrowed up into an angry feature. " You may know but you don't understand. I loved her. . .I loved her very much!" His eyes opened up and the storm of tears streamed down his cheek. His sobs rang out into the music room. Emma stood frozen, dumbfounded and speechless. " I loved her. . . she left me. . . running away with that fool! But what did he have to offer her. . .money. I have enough money to feed the whole city of Paris. . .No that's not why she left you Erik, she left you because of your face. Its evil markings and torn skin!" The man fell to his knees, landing heavily on the floor, his fists pounding the stone. Emma walked over to him and put her fingertips on his arm. He flinched away from her touch as if burned by acid. The man moved away from her, crawling away on the stone floor. " She didn't love me."

" Erik. . .I truly am. . .really sorry. I can't believe how stupid I am to be so insensitive." Emma knelt down to the floor. Her head hung low and her fingers wrung around one another. Erik looked up at her, not glaring or smiling. Tears stained his face, tracks of their flight glimmered in the firelight. His hands fell from his face and rested on his curled legs. Emma reached out and placed her hand on his, trying not to jerk away from the abnormal temperature of his skin. Erik tried to escape it but with no avail. Emma held on tightly, her eyes digging deep into his. " I will not stop you from loving Christine, nor will I ever really understand what happened. I will help to make you realize that Christine loved you, just a more fatherly love. But I can do this only if you allow me."

". . .Emma, sometimes your mouth can be so irritating," Erik stood up and moved to his organ. His long skinny fingers aligned themselves along the smooth keys. " But sometimes, only a few, do you know what to say."

Emma got up and walked over to the music bench. She motioned Erik to scoot over and took a seat next to him. While Erik played a quiet tune, the girl put her hair up into a messy bun. Then turned back around to face the organ.

" Can I attempt to play a song. I'm sure you'll recognize it from the music I let you listen to. It took me four months to perfect it so, no critiquing. If you feel the need to sing, which I do recommend, please enlighten me with that voice of gold."

" My voice is nothing to get excited about." Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise.

" Stop being modest. If you're anything like Michael Crawford, then you have a voice of gold. If you can sing better than him. . . lets just say I'll be forcing you to sing all the time."

" Who is this Michael Crawford you seem to obsess over?"

" Ah, Michael Crawford. He was the very first Phantom of the Opera for Webber's musical. I call him the King of all Phantoms. Well, other than you of course. . . But Michael was always thin, and pale and he had the nicest body and-"

" Mademoiselle, please just play the song. I do not wish to hear about someone's physic."

" Sorry, I sometimes go on long tangents about him. Anyways, here we go." Emma started the song and before she knew it, her eyes were closed and she was rocking in complete ecstacy. Erik stared surprised at her emotion, but truly she played it like a dog. The melody and general idea of the song was indeed soothing. The music smoothed over his anger and chiseled some of the built of layers of hate. When Emma finished the song, her lips parted into a smile.

For a time now she has wondered what it was like outside. She hasn't been out since Thanksgiving. This was her favorite time of year, fall and winter. Just to be able to look at the snow falling, the fresh smell of fallen snow and the sensation of coming in after a long walk in the snow. Yes, she did love snow. Emma would do anything to go outside, and since it was about one in the morning, maybe Erik would make an exception.

" Erik, can I ask you a favor?"

" Whatever it is you wish to ask me, my answer is no!"

" But I haven't even asked you yet."

" Yes, but most likely the chances that I say yes are unlikely."

"But-"

" No!"

" Erik, it's not fair. . . I'll start singing again!" The ghost sat there with his arms crossed. " Alright. . . _Cause I_

_had the time of my life, _

_No I never felt this way before, _

_Yes I swear, _

_It's the truth, _

_For I owe it all to you..._

" Fine, what is it that you want?"

Emma worried her lip and twirled the ends of her hair. This was harder then she thought.

" I waswonderingifwecouldgoonawalkinthepark."

" Was that even a language Mademoiselle? Slow down so I can understand you."

" I was wondering," Emma sighed. It's best to just get it out. " If we could go for a walk in the park."

" No. We have already been through this. You can go, but I am staying here."

" I don't want to go by myself. There are wacks out there and I don't want to be killed by one. Please! I promise I won't ask you again!"

" Then do not go if you're afraid of being murdered."

" It's not fair! You're used to not going outside, but this is new for me. It's one in the morning. Is it common for people to take walks in the park at this hour?"

" Not that I would know, but I doubt it."

" I will do anything! I will go anywhere as long as it's outside!"

" Anywhere?"

" Yes, anywhere. Other then the sewers, but yea."

" Alright then, go get dressed. I'll meet you down by the dock. Dress warmly, it's quite cold outside and I don't want you to catch an illness."

Erik waited by the boat holding a lantern in between his fingers. Time was passing by and Emma still didn't come through the double doors. It had to have been at least fifteen minutes. How long does it take to put on gloves, a cloak and a scarf? Finally just as his temper was about to explode, Emma walked through the double doors and Erik's heart jumped a beat. She was wearing a black cloak, one with red velvet on the inside and her hair cascaded spiraling down her chest. His breath quickened an he tried desperately to peal his eyes away from her body. His mind raced for something to say, something that would hide his attraction towards her.

" I thought you were never going to show up. What took you so long?"

" Can't a girl look pretty sometimes?" Erik saw the dark black coloring on her lower eye lid and saw the cherry lipstick on her intoxicating lips. His heart quivered at the thoughts in his head.

" What is that on your eyes?"

" It's called eye-liner, it's to make a girl more attractive. It's very popular in the future."

" Only women who sell themselves wear it on their eyes today. You looked fine before. . .Never mind that, just get into the boat." Erik moved to help the girl but only found her shoving his hand way.

" I can see Monsieur, I don't need you to help me now."

Emma walked across the dock slowly, making sure she knew exactly where to go. Her foot slowly probed the bow of the boat until she was safely standing inside it. Erik inched into the boat and began to row across the lake, humming the song Emma had played for him. True it was addicting and very sensual, but he found it annoying that the girl was right in saying that he thought the song was good deep down. It seemed all he could think of lately was Emma, but he didn't want to let go of his precious Christine. The thought that he would be deceiving her would crush his heart. They reached the shore, a beam of moonlight poured through the Rue Scribe. Emma walked toward the exit but was greeted with Erik telling her that they weren't going to the park.

" What the hell do you mean we aren't going to the park! I asked if we could go for a walk?"

" If I may correct you Mademoiselle, you said I could take you anywhere. This time it will not be as eventful as the last trip I took you on. Even so, you will still have to climb."

Erik led the girl towards the oversized steps and they walked up the stairs, talking about Christmas and decorations. Once they reached ground level, Erik took Emma through a hallway which ended in another set of steps. They climbed flight after flight of stairs up until they came to a low ceiling. Erik hitched open a door up on the ceiling and climbed through, a light wind swirled through and hit Emma's face. He lowered his hands down and pulled Emma up onto the roof of the Opera house. Emma gasped and closed her eyes, panting as if she just ran a marathon. She groped at Erik's jacket and feverishly grabbed hold of his neck. Small whimpers of terror escaped through her mouth. The poor man tried to calm her, telling her that nothing would happen to her. He walked over the Apollo and leaned against the golden sculpture, the girl clinging to him like a bur.

" Emma, my dear, you are strangling me. You must let go, you are not going to fall." At that moment, the girl clung tighter around Erik's neck. He could smell the sweet essence of her hair, and felt the warmth of her fingertips against his neck. Her heart was racing one hundred beats per minute, almost as if she was about to have a heart attack. Erik, for a last resort, started to sing the song she played for him back at the house. Emma began to relax, the music danced around her ears. The panic and worry she felt before started to melt away and her grip around his neck loosened. Emma's head tilted up to look at Erik. His eyes dazzled in the cloudy night, and his face shone pale in the white sky. She didn't dare look down, for she knew her panic would grow stronger. Her mouth managed to breathe out a thank-you, but her mind was clogged with the seductive tone of Erik's voice.

" There, there. Nothing is going to happen. If you would just stay calm you will be able to enjoy this scene of Paris." Erik grabbed Emma's wrists and uncoiled them from his neck. He turned her around to face the city. It was very difficult to make the girl move but after some reassurance, she gave up. The city was a spectacle of colors and the air was light and cold.

Emma grabbed onto the statue next to them and held on until her knuckles grew white. It was scary facing her fears, but it was worth it. In fact, to look back on it, she must have looked stupid freaking out like that. A sea of red crept up her neck and invaded her cheeks. Her legs started to notice the cool air as it climbed up her body. Each finger slowly began to freeze and her nose responded to this by turning a light pink.

The breath of fresh air was definitely worth the bitter cold. Emma looked up at the endless color of grey and from the pit of it saw a single, gliding snow flake fall from it. A few seconds later, the sky was scattered with white pin-tops of snow. A gasp escaped her throat, except this one was out of excitement. She was witnessing snow!

" Erik, look it's snowing! I can't believe it's snowing! HA! I caught one on my tongue! Don't look at me like that! Try it. . .Come on stick your tongue out, like this. Ah." Erik stared at the girl with a mocking grin on his face.

" I am not going to do such things as catch snow flakes on my tongue. It is absurd."

" Don't be so uptight. If I can subside my fear," Emma inched back from the edge and turned back to Erik, her eyes glowing in amusement. " Of heights, then you can catch a snow flake on your tongue."

" My answer is still no. I would rather watch you make a fool out of yourself so I can bring it up later to plead for your insanity."

" Come on!"

" No!"

" Just do it. It's really fun." Emma stuck out her tongue and caught a small, diamond shaped snow flake on her tongue. Then, making an exaggerated munching sound, attempted to persuade the man to try it.

" Emma, I told you I will not do it! That's final."

" Erik, you need to pull that cork out your ass and have some fun!"

" What did you say?"

" Don't make me make you try it."

" ALRIGHT! If I do it will you shut your endless mouth?"

" For the time being, yes."

Erik tilted his head back and grudgingly stuck out his tongue. Emma let out a snicker and watched as a lonely snowflake landed on Erik's tongue, he rolled his eyes at Emma's amusement. He closed his mouth and finally really smiled. It had been a long time since he smiled, a foreign action to him. His eyes traveled from the sky down to Emma, her hair a shaggy grey with the snow mixing with her long, shiny black hair. He noticed she was shivering and suggested they head back down. But the girl refused and shook her head, sending tiny flakes to the rooftop.

"I want to soak up all the fresh air and snow until there is none left for the world. Call me selfish, but I want to remember how this feels, and how it tastes." Emma caught another snowflake as the sky really opened up and sent bigger chunks of snow sailing down to land on Emma's body.

" If you soak up too much, you will become ill and I don't have the patience to deal with you when you're sick. I can barely deal with you now."

Giving up, Emma shook her head in agreement let go of the statue. But before she moved to go back down, she turned to Erik and smiled at him. The man broke out into a sweat, even in the bitter winter air. She walked towards him, careful not to slip on the snow covered panels. Once face to face with him, she opened up her arms and hugged the man. Erik, heart beating and lungs working hard for him not to faint, stood dumbfounded. He slowly wrapped his arms around the girl, his long skinny arms encircling around her back. Emma quickly nestled into his chest, the top of her head fitting neatly under his chin. She broke the embrace and quickly pecked Erik on his uncovered cheek and walked down the opening in the roof.

Erik breathed deeply in for the first time since Emma began to hug him.

His fingers traced the spot where her lips met his skin. Was it real? Did that actually happen? Erik thought about pinching himself, but was stopped by Emma's voice yelling up to him from the cut out square in the roof.

" Merry Christmas Erik. See you in the morning." She yelled. The next thing Erik heard was a loud bang and Emma trying to cover up her mishap. " My heads fine, I just didn't see that beam there."

Erik chuckled, " Merry Christmas, my dear Emma." He began to walk back, but turned around and looked straight out into the white speckled air. " Merry Christmas, my beloved Christine, where ever you may be." He breathed out into the winter night, but the only thing that heard him was the drifting silent snow and the sleeping city of Paris.


	12. A night to Remember, Or to forget!

**Authors Note:**

My Dearest Readers!

How much I adore you all, especially all those who find time to leave me a comment. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to stop writing this story but only to be motivated by your kind comments. I hope my writing is getting better instead of worse and I hope that I am making your time worth while. Please any problems, concerns, favorites, ideas, anything you wish to see in this story, tell me... I'll see what I can do! Well, must begin writing the next chapter, god knows how long that will take!

P. s . School is dragging on so agonizingly slow! I'm just glad I don't have English and Journalism in the same semester anymore... Anyways,

Chapter 12 Awaits. . .

Iam-TheMask

Chapter 12

New years Eve

" Emma, I'm back. It's quite windy outside. I've returned with some things for you. Come up and take a look."

The girl slowly emerged from the stairwell, rubbing her eyes and her hair all askew. She had appeared she just got out of bed. Erik laughed under his breath at the pathetic sight. He proceeded towards the couch and sat three boxes on the coffee table.

" Where have you been? It's eight in the morning and you're just returning from where ever you were."

" These are for you."

" Where were you. . .what?

" I said these are for you."

" Really! Gifts for me? Which one should I open first?"

" Well, I would suggest that one," Erik pointed to a large wrapped box with a red bow on it. " It would only make sense."

" I can't wait to see what's inside!" Emma shook the box side to side then up and down. After fiddling around with the package she finally tore off the wrapping and unlatched the box. Her eyelids widened until the white of her auburn eyes were completely visible. Then, she pulled out of the box, a scarlet and gold gown. It had sparkles and pearls and little diamonds on it, with golden gauze at the bottom. The abdomen area was red and small. Emma knew that it was going to be a size too small. " It's too small."

" Well, that is the purpose of this box."

She opened the second box which was much smaller than the first box. She unwrapped and unlatched it just as before, and instead of being surprised in a good way, was more along the lines of shocked. She had seen some of these things in stores around Halloween, but never thought she would have to wear one. It was apparent that it was necessary to wear it in the nineteenth century. It was ruffled, brownish tan, with drawstrings and all.

A corset.

" Oh boy."

" Before you panic, open the last one."

" I don't think I can wear one of these."

" Emma just open the last one, please."

She did as she was told, and this box was half the size of the second one. When she unwrapped the box, there was another velvet red box inside that one. Emma froze and almost refused to go on. How could this man buy jewelry for her, when they have only known each other for almost four months. Erik beckoned her to continue, and with trembling fingers, she followed directions. The red, velvet box popped open and inside laid a small pair of dangling gold roses. Outside of them was a gold necklace, with a rose pendant hanging in the middle of it. The girl was surprised to find tears welling up in her eyes. They were unexpected and hot. She tried desperately to make them go away, to swallow them away. But one by one, they fell onto her cold, pale hands.

" If those are tears of happiness, wipe them away because we are going to have to fit that corset on you and get you fitted for that dress today. It will not be easy."

" I can't wear this, I can't. If you think I'm too fat to wear a dress at that size, then don't buy a dress at all!" The girl frantically swiped each falling tear away from her face.

" It has nothing to do with weight, it is only the style. I do not care for the world of what your weight is."

" What is this all for?" Emma questioned, eyeing the corset evilly.

" Well, a few days ago I was reading the paper that I took for the managers office, yes I stole it and do not look at me like that. I was reading the paper and it had stated that the Opera house was housing a Masquerade on New Year's Eve. I have decided to make a surprise appearance, with you attending it with me. You needed something festive for the event. Hopefully it goes well for both."

" You're kidding me right. I don't have time to get ready! You must be kidding me. You wouldn't be telling me this the day of the event."

" Actually, I am not joking Mademoiselle. But no need to worry, everything will be taken care of. A very good friend of mine has agreed to fix you up for tonight. But if I were you, I would go for a walk, you'll be sitting in the 'beauty chair' for a very long time!"

" Who is this friend? Where am I going to meet her? What time is she expecting me?" Emma stood up and headed towards the spiral stair case, Erik following closely behind carrying the unwrapped boxes in his hands. They reached the room where Emma first arrived there. The man lowered the boxes onto a wooden table and turned to the girl.

" She is coming here at around two this afternoon. Her name is Antoinette Giry, and her daughter might be accompanying her as well, I really do not know what to expect. Though I do think you should be back here around half past one, but from now till then the time is yours."

" Alright, I'll go get changed, then I'll go adventuring in Paris. What if I get lost?"

" Go to anyone near you and ask to be escorted to the Paris Opera house. Most definitely they will know where it is. Be careful. Good Day Emma." His silhouette slipped back upstairs gracefully in the dim candlelight.

Emma went back to her room and changed into a long green skirt which just barely touched the ground and a white blouse, its sleeves exceeding passed her hands. Her hair was tied up half way and her boots were laced, ready to go. The stone floor clicked under Emma's boots and her hair swished back and forth on her plain white blouse. She grabbed her cloak and headed to the double doors, bidding Erik farewell as she walked out.

The air was quick and brisk, making her rethink the idea of going for a walk. Snow covered the ground in blankets of blinding white. The streets were virtually empty except a few people scurrying from shop to shop. Emma walked out into the main road and traveled to the front of the Opera house. Multitudes of people were bustling in and out of the Opera, some were dressed up women who seemed to be on a mission, others looked scared to death. The park across the Opera populaire was empty as well, only the bare lonely trees keeping the benches company. Emma walked to a wooden bench that faced the Opera house and took a seat. It was very loud, the air cutting through her like a knife through butter. She sat and watched hordes of people rush in and out of the Opera house, no one even had the courtesy to say good morning. After awhile, any remote feeling in the girls fingers was gone and her nose was numb and running. A man, with autumn hair and a handsome face came waltzing out of the Opera house to see her sitting on the bench by herself. He smiled and walked over to her, taking a few moments to look at the beautiful woman in front of him. Her hair was flowing from her head, in silk curls and her eyes were the color of burning embers. Her lips, lush and full, were a pale red.

" Good morning my lady." Tucker took hold one of Emma's hands and planted a feathery kiss. "Why, your frozen to the touch."

" That's alright. I've been sitting out here for about an hour now, and I don't mind the fresh air."

" But you seem so pale. Come we'll go inside and have some hot cider. That will warm your blood and put some of that pretty color back into your face."

" Oh, no I can't do that. Not in there."

" Why not? Are you waiting for someone?"

" Oh no. Just thought I would get some air. Its quite stuffy being down there- I mean in my house."

" Hmm. . .Well what if we just go inside to get some hot cider, then come back out here, we could sit down and talk some."

Emma thought about the offer. The man was right, she was freezing and the hot cider seemed to be calling her name. But the thought of Erik finding out would end up forcing another heated argument between the two. The wind picked up and flogged harder upon her face. Sighing heavily, Emma agreed to go into the opera house for a quick minute, but then they would have to return back outside and not return inside again.

Warm air flourished around Emma as they entered the opera house. The main lobby was much like the Halloween party, except for the fact that there was no DJ over by the stairs. Many people were scurrying around the lobby, some rushing up stairs, some in and out of doors that were hidden among curtains. The golds were bright and welcoming to the eye. She had a slight feeling that someone was indeed watching her, but she tried to nudge it off and follow Tucker to the kitchen. The area was quite familiar, considering the night of Thanksgiving. Tucker called over a man in a black tux, and asked him to bring two cups of hot cider. The man bowed and left them alone. She tried to smile at the handsome man before her, but the incident of Laramie came to mind and her smile disappeared. After about two minutes of agonizing silence the butler came back with a tray in hand. On top were two cups of steaming hot cider. The man handed them their cups and walked off to clean up the kitchen. Tucker turned to the door and Emma followed. They walked back out into the freezing winter rage and sat back down onto the bench. The cider warmed her throat and her hands pricked with warmth.

" Isn't this place wonderful. It's so marvelous and attracts many visitors a day. Some come to see the operas, some come just to be able to see it, and others come to try to catch a glimpse of, Oh what did Andre call it, oh the Opera Ghost." Emma choked on the gulp of cider she had taken and coughed to relieve the liquid in her windpipe. " Are you alright Emma?"

" Oh, no problem. Swallowed a bug or something, that's all."

" Oh. . ." The silenced enveloped them until the awkwardness was too much to handle. " I was invited to the New Years Eve Party tonight at the Opera. I believe I was asked to bring a guest. Since I am relatively alone in Paris, except you, I was wondering if, uh, you would accompany me to this Gala?" His eyes pleaded and his lips broke in a desperate smile.

" Well, I don't know if I can."

" Please Emma. We could just go as friends. Even just as dancing partners."

" Well, I guess we could be dancing-"

" Oh thank you Emma, I am so pleased to hear it! I will pick you up around eight. Where do you live?"

" Well I could walk, but-"

" Very well, I shall meet you at eight then. I will see you tonight, my dear Emma." He picked up Emma's frozen hand and planted a kiss on it. " Until then I bid you the fondest farewell."

" But Tucker, I can't!"

It was no use, the man was already half way to his carriage by the time Emma ushered the exclamation. Erik would surely have a fit if he found out about Tucker and his invitation. Seeing that it was only 11 o'clock Emma walked back over to the opera house and entered. The warm air thawed her frostbitten hands and sent pricks of pain up her arm. She spotted an empty hallway to her left and turned to it. It was a long passageway of dark mahogany wood and candelabra's hung from the ceiling and walls. Doors lined the hallway, each one had french inscribed onto it. Emma's weakness in french took a toll on her stay in France. She has been living here since she was fifteen, but its been ten years since then, and her knowledge still hasn't gained much. She walked until she came to an intersection. She could either go right, or stay straight. Seeing as the hallway ended in a staircase, Emma decided to turn right. Another on going passageway. Whispers and drafts of air came running toward her from an unknown being. The girl tried to keep her relaxed posture but found it hard to do. The hallway started to become darker and more eerie than before. After awhile, Emma thought she heard footsteps behind her, but decided to protest against the thought. The thought of the hallway never ending soon became apparent to her, and she realized it was going at a steady decline.

" Great, just what I need to do. Get lost, when I needed back at the house in about an hour."

Something suddenly tugged at her skirt, and her head looked over her right shoulder. Indeed there was a dark, ash shadow stalking behind her, ever so slowly and graciously. The echoes of her feet rang louder as she proceeded faster down the hallway. The shadows footsteps followed just as fast, only a few steps away from her. The beat of her heart bumped loudly inside her chest, and her fingers clenched it to muffle the sounds. Finally, at the climax of her hysteria, Emma turned fully around and looked at the figure.

" Alright bud! I'm a black belt in karate, if you think you can steal from me, better think again!" Emma squinted into the darkness, but only saw the shaded outline of a tall, built man.

The shadow bursted out into a loud chuckle, and in the darkness, stalked closer to the fear struck girl.

" You would not even think to do such things. I am still upset that you do not know who I am. I do warn you though, my reputation will come to you, and might even make you scream. Are you knew here?"

" I do not work here!"

" Then are you a ballet rat?"

" No. I just arrived here in Paris actually!"

" Well haven't you heard of the Opera ghost, mademoiselle? You can never kill a ghost!" Emma's eyes widened and the fearful look was smeared off her face. How stupid could she be?

" Erik? Is that you?"

". . . Emma, is that you there? Why are you wandering the halls, I thought you were outside taking a walk."

" Well, I decided to come inside where it is warm. What the heck are you doing stalking the halls? Is this what you do to innocent ballet girls. . . You almost gave me a heart attack!"

" I did not know it would be you wandering these hallways! You know very well what I do! You should have known better. . . I believe it is time for us to return home now. It's best you be there early. Would not want Antoinette waiting. You thought I was stern, she is a spiked whip compared to me."

They arrived back at the lake where a women with neatly pinned up hair stood waiting. Her face was tight and stiff looking. When she saw Erik come forth she did not smile but only frowned. Her black dress made her almost invisible to the eye, or at least Emma's naked eye. The woman walked forward and examined Emma and Erik, her eye traveling from on to the other.

" You are late!" The woman bellowed. Her hand was on her hip and one of her eye-brows raised up high on her forehead. " Well, I see you are both here, we can proceed to the house." Emma turned to look at Erik who looked at her with a straight face. "Or would you rather waste more time with an introduction?" The trio boarded the boat and Erik paddled across the lake. The woman even beckoned to Erik to go faster, and Emma was surprised to see him obey without question, like a small school boy listening to a teacher.

They all piled into the apartment and the woman grabbed hold of Emma's elbow. They both headed down to Emma's bedroom and didn't stop or talk till they arrived. The woman, most likely Antoinette, ordered her to strip down to her bare flesh. When Emma hesitated the woman snapped at her and the poor girl got right to it. The woman laid out the gown, the corset and petticoat all out on the bed. Emma stood there naked, with her arms crossed over her chest. This was very uncomfortable and embarrassing.

" I am Madame Antoinette Giry. You may address me by Madame Giry and nothing else. Erik tells me this is your first time wearing a corset. Well, this will be a hell of a night for you." Madame Giry picked up the petticoat and told Emma to put it on. She tried to get the petticoat on without letting go of her chest, a task difficult to accomplish. After that was done, Madame Giry fastened the slip around the back, making it push against her stomach. Next Giry asked Emma to lift up her arms, and she obeyed. The corset wrapped around her abdomen and chest, the fabric cold and rough against her body. Madame Giry fastened the tiny hooks on the back and after that was done, warned the girl that this next step was going to be very painful. Emma took a deep breath in and prayed. The woman tied the strings and pulled with all her force. The air out of poor Emma's lungs was squeezed out of her, and the next one was just as bad. A few times Emma let out a yelp of pain and was only greeted with a swat from the Mistress. When the lacing was done and over with, Emma searched for breath that was left in her crushed lungs. No wonder this style died out after time. Madame Giry grabbed the massive skirt off the bed and knelt on the ground. Emma stepped into the skirt and balanced herself on the mistresses shoulders. Next the woman yanked the red bodice over Emma's head and arms, shaking her head violently in the doing.

" That man has no taste what so ever in clothing. Everyone is going to be wearing white, gold, black and silver. Yet he puts you in a dark red and gold, what an idiot!" She sighed.

" I happen to like the colors."

" You really are new here." The mistress straightened, placing her hand on her back, her face screwing up in pain.

" Here take a seat, you look hurt." Emma went to move forward, but found it difficult to move from the tightly laced corset. Any movement at all required heavy breathing to supply her lungs with enough oxygen.

" I am perfectly capable of managing without your assistance! Come over here and sit on this seat. I will be curling your hair in tight spirals. Is that a problem with you, Emma?"

" But my hair is already in cur-"

" Good, now sit up straight and do not move. This will take a bit of time."

Madame Giry tied up the girls hair and left only a column of dark black hair dangling. She wound up the hair in a string and tied it tightly to her head. Emma winced in more pain, only relaxing after the fifth time. Emma sat staring at herself in the mirror, at her auburn eyes, and midnight black hair. All her life she wished for blue eyes, or even green at that. Her dad's eye's were blue, god rest his soul. Her mother unfortunately had green eyes, and when the two mixed, it turned into a light, almost orange brown. Her nose was wide and her lips were swollen to a full expanse.

After the first hour had come and went, the Mistress had only done 3 layers of her silky hair. She found it hard to make the soft hair stay in the strings, and occasionally yanked at her hair. When Emma would respond with a call of pain, the woman would just tell her the shut her mouth. Erik was right in saying that Madame Giry was bitter, but maybe that was her way of not getting involved in anything. The silence hung heavy in the room, even the fireplace dared not to crackle in the emptiness. Out of the quite of the room, Emma was startled to hear the woman speak.

" How long have you been here with him?" The question was curious, but not desperate or forceful.

" Since the night of Halloween. It was an unexpected arrival."

" I would agree. I am quite surprised he let anyone stay with him since the departure of Christine. He is a very broken man, Mademoiselle Emma. His soul is more fragile then a porcelain doll and has to be well taken care of. No toying with his emotions, understood." Emma giggled at the statement.

" We aren't dating you know."

" That does not mean you shouldn't treat him with respect and kindness. It is the least he deserves after all he's been through."

" What do you mean all he's been through. The only thing that happened was his lover leaving him. That can't be that bad." Madame Giry tugged a bit tighter on the string she was tying. "Ow!"

" Well what do you expect from a man who has never had any kind of love, not even the love of his mother. Christine was is only savior at the time, and when she left, his heart froze. Not even a cast iron prong could melt the boundaries. But I dare say he has softened since your infamous arrival."

" You mean he was abused?"

" Oh, definitely. But I should not be talking to you about this. I was simply trying to make conversation." Once again, the woman tugged hard on a hunk of hair and string.

Emma felt her heart wrench for the man she had yelled at and even abused him herself. He was a grown man, in his late thirties and he was still scarred by his childhood. Emma herself never really got the feeling of a mother, for a fatal car accident killed both her parents when she was only a young teenager. That is the only reason she was living with her Aunt Fran and Uncle Percy at the time. Another jerk from the woman above sent her awful daydream away from her brain, and she faded back into reality.

Another two hours had passed and Emma's head was completely covered in bows and strings. She felt dumb wearing all of it. And to find out that she would have to wait another hour before taking them out was a horrible thought. The Mistress which dressed her and did her hair was nerve wracking to merely be in the same room with. She worked around the room and cleaned up the mess she made and put away clothes that were spewed all over the bed. Madame Giry opened the armoire and took out a pair of gold laced shoes. Luckily, they were just the right size. She slipped them onto Emma's feet, and walked out of the room for a quick second. She returned with a small black bag in her hand. The woman turned Emma toward her and put a light pink color over her eyes, the smell was of plastic. Then, she shimmered something on her lips, and told her to smear it around. Finally, she applied a liquid to her neckline and her wrists, which reeked of roses and lilac.

The hour passed by fast with the primping Madame Giry did, and began to take out all the tiny bows in her hair. Each Bow revealed a cascading curl, which hung down to her chest. It only took forty-five minutes to take out all the bows in Emma's thick hair. After they were done, Madame Giry let Emma look herself in a full length mirror in the drawing room. Emma gaped at the image she saw before her. It couldn't be true. She was wearing a beautiful gown, one of which had the colors of dark red, and gold in the bodice, and gold with gauze and lace down at the bottom of the petticoat. The band of fabric on her chest expanded around her shoulders. Her hair was a great deal shorter than usual, but the curls were finally a perfect contour. Her stomach was the smallest its ever been, which made her feel confident. The only thing wrong was it was so hard to breathe. Her mistress smiled at her good work, and Emma couldn't help but produce tears in this happy moment.

" Thank you so much Madame Giry! You are a wonderful person!" Emma exclaimed. Her joy was exceeding to magnificent heights.

" You're very welcome, my girl. Now there is a party waiting for you in the lobby." Madame Giry lead Emma up the stairs, giving her tips on how to walk more gracefully, and criticizing her inability to walk in heels.

Erik walked out of his room and closed the door behind him. He wiped the dust of his old replica of the Red Death outfit, but this time it had more black then red. The jacket was black with red stitching, and the pants were black. The shirt under the jacket was a bright red. He bore a black mask this time, which did only cover half his face. When he turned around, his heart stopped to see Emma standing their, an angel on display. He worked hard to breathe again, and his heart beat loud in his head. The girl smiled at him, a beautiful white smile that was so contagious, Erik had to smile himself.

" You look beautiful. But you are forgetting something my dear." Erik stalked over to the coffee table, snatched the jewelry box and popped it open. He took out the earrings and handed them to her. She applied them to her earlobes. Erik walked behind the girl and entwined his arms around her. He laced the necklace perfectly along her collar bones. Emma's skin began to produce goose bumps as Erik's cool fingers wisped across her neck. The man walked around Emma and faced her, their eyes meeting one another. Suddenly a thought caused Emma's smiled to recede from her face.

" What? What is it? Well other than the corset."

" I. . . "

" Well, come on. Spit it out child."

" I don't know how to dance." Emma confessed just under a mumble.

" You are telling me this now! When there is fifteen minutes until the ball begins... Alright fine, a quick lesson on waltzing. Ok, place your left hand on my right shoulder. The other shoulder Emma."

" Oh, right."

" No, left!"

" That's what I said. . ."

" Ok, now give me your right hand. . ."

". . . Are you ticklish?"

" Am I what. . . what the blazes are you doing!" Emma started to poke at Erik's ribs, then tried to fish under his arm. Erik stood there, his face free of emotion other then annoyance. He grabbed Emma's searching hands from his body and aligned them up the way he intended. " As we were about to do. Ok step forward with your left foot. Ow, your other foot. Ok good, now step to your left. Now back, and to your right. And we start over. . . See not that hard. Now can we leave, so we won't be late. Why does this sound so familiar?"

" Probably because the time you took me to see the Opera we were almost late." Emma retorted, Madame Giry stood with her hand on her hip and stared at Erik.

" She was nagging me, what was I going to do. Don't look at me like that. Come on Emma we need to go, Antoinette I thank you again. You know the other way out right." The woman shook her head in reply. " Good. Grab your cloak Emma so we can head up. Thank you. And we are off to the Gala."

Madame Giry stepped from her place and walked up to Emma, tapping her fingers on her shoulder. Emma turned around and looked at her Mistress inquiringly.

" My dear girl! You need a mask. . ."

" There's no time for that, come Emma. I do not wish to be late or everything will be ruined." And the ghost grabbed her arm and pulled her out to the awaiting boat.


	13. Flash Bang Swoosh!

Dear readers,

I have to inform you that I have just received a laptop and it has helped me write more, so here is the next chapter.

I want to personally thank you all for reading and commenting... I'm trying to believe that people read it and just don't feel like commenting other than not liking it... If you don't like it, just tell me, you won't hurt my feelings! They're pretty solid! Well anyways, for my solid readers, here is the next chapter... Flash Band Swoosh!

From the hallway Erik was taking them through, Emma could hear the small ensemble playing wonderful music and people laughing together. She was anxious and nervous at the same time. How was she to act at a party in the nineteenth century?

Erik tried to relax himself of his anxiousness. He knew Christine was coming with her darling Raoul, but it was also the fact that he was going to be resorting to his old deeds. His heart was pounding at the thought of being face to face with Christine after so many years. Now that she is returning to attend the Masquerade party, he has to show her that he's still here, waiting for her to return. But what about Emma?

' What about her? Like she said, we are friends. And nothing else. Yes, nothing else.'

They pushed through the tiny crawlspace and into a real hallway with jet candles dangling from the wall, lighting the way with gold and yellow. Emma's lungs were tired out already from the journey Erik took her on and she didn't know how long she would have to wear that blasted corset. It was going to be the death of her, that is if she never returns to the future. Her stomach gave a sharp twitch of pain and her fingers coiled around the spot.

" Erik, wait," Emma gasped for air. Tonight wasn't going to be easy for her. " I don't know if I can go through this, I mean I can barely breathe. To add on to that I can barely dance. I'm not cut out for this."

" The night will be over before you will know it. Just hang on for as long as you can. You will have fun."

They walked a bit farther down the passageway till Emma could see the tan tiled floor of the main lobby. She walked through the arch doorway and looked at the party. Her eyes widened and a smile grew on her face. The view was amazing, the scenery perfect and her breath was taken away from her once more. The ceiling was a golden heaven, with streamers and the tiny chandeliers were decorated with gold, silver and black beads. The splitting staircase was gold with sparkled streamers and ribbon on it. Everyone was in the middle of the lobby doing some strange dance. It was a flourish of gold, silver, white and black. Emma looked down at her dress and blushed. She would definitely stick out like a sore thumb in this crowd. She turned around to scold Erik, but she found that once again he had abandoned her.  
" Great, that, that. . . Bastard!"

Emma walked timidly into the lobby, suddenly feeling self-conscious about herself. The people at the party were all wearing masks, some black, some white, some small and some large. She wandered around the crowds of people, feeling quite stupid for being the only one who was not wearing a mask. She mentally scold Erik once more for that as well. After searching for Erik in the crowd, she gave up and went to look for a shaded corner. When she was half way to her savior, she felt a finger tap her shoulder. Turning around with the most grace that was possible, she ended up stepping on the end of her dress, falling forward into the stranger's arms. The person who tapped her shoulder caught her and righted her to the floor. The man before her was gorgeous in his black tuxedo and black mask. He smiled at Emma, and she couldn't help but blush. The man held up his index finger and signaled to hold on. When he was done fishing around in his inside pocket, he pulled out a white mask which had lace and pearls scattered upon it. Emma squealed in delight and hugged the man. Unlike Erik, Tucker was so much more approachable and easier to talk to.

" It's amazing! I can't believe you did this. Thank you so much!"

" The pleasure is all mine Emma," Tucker took Emma's hand and kissed it. She still wasn't used to that. " Would you care to dance?"

" Well, to tell you the truth, I'm not the strongest dancer!" Emma played with the tips of her curled hair as well as worried her bottom lip. The man chuckled and held out his hand for her to take. She hesitated, the thought of tripping and falling onto her face made her think about it.

" I promise, I won't let you fall!" Emma grabbed his hand and they walked out into the middle of the lobby. " Now, just follow my lead."

The first few steps were a disaster, her stepping on his foot, then she was going the wrong way. But after the third time around, Emma felt she kind of had the hang of the awkward dance. Tucker looked at her sweetly, sending heart melting smiles her way, and she tried to smile in return.

" You lie, you are a wonderful dancer."

" Thank you, Monsieur Arnette. You're a smooth dancer as well."

" You're eyes are striking, I have never seen someone with such eyes as yours. And please, call me Tucker."

" My, Tucker, you're full of compliments." Emma said, her cheeks blushed to the color of a plum. The man dipped her down, his hand rested on her thigh.

" I only speak the truth." They stood back up and began to dance again.

For some reason while dancing, Emma began to forget the people around her and only focused on the dance steps. When the dance ended, Tucker offered to get her a glass of wine, it would be her eighth glass. Emma agreed happily.  
The music had died down to a softer tune, and by then Emma had gulped down two more drinks. Her dancing partner had offered one last dance for it was two minutes to midnight, and the count down would begin. This dance was a lot more slower and was also a lot more sensual then the others. Emma felt she was right against the mans chest, but really was about a half a foot away. The dance sent her into a trance and her head started to slightly spin. The music abruptly stopped and the two managers arrived at the stop of the landing of the staircase. They clanged their champagne glasses and the taller one cleared his throat.

" Good Evening ladies and gentleman. I believe we have one minute until it is officially midnight, which starts the new year, but does not end our party! This year has been a success, and our former soprano Madame De Chaney will be joining us for a small portion of the new year. She is with her new husband and passed patron Raoul De Chaney, god bless their souls. Let us hope the year of 1886 is as prosperous as the last one! Well, since it seems we have taken up much of the time, lets start the count down shan't we!"

' 1886? But the newspaper Erik showed me it was 1896. . .? I'll have to ask him about it then.'

The whole room inhaled, and Emma looked around. They were all facing the giant grandfather clock right outside the stage entrance.

" 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2-" Out of the ceiling of the lobby emanated a very loud cackle, and then in the last remaining second, the room was plunged into darkness. Emma along with everyone in the lobby screamed. She held onto Tucker for dear life. After about five long seconds in the dark, light poured through the room and everyone heaved a sigh of relief. But standing on the railing of the very top steps, stood a man with a black mask, his hands on his hips and was scouring the room. When the parties attention was directed to Erik, they shrieked in terror.

" It's the phantom of the opera!" A man yelled from Emma's far left. The calm tranquility everyone felt before had vanished in a matter of a second. Erik jumped down to the first ledge of the steps and walked down the stairs. While passing the Managers, he bowed deeply and bid them a splendid greeting. When he was at the bottom of the steps, an eerie smooth voice bellowed throughout the room: 

"Yes! It is I, your honorable guest. But please no autographs till the end of this ball. . ."

The skeleton bowed to all the people in the lobby staring at him and after his entrance. He pointed to a lonely chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and with a snap of a finger, a deep red spark exploded and it came crashing down to the floor. He laughed again, and a large blue flame engulfed him. Everyone gasped and when the smoke cleared, the man was gone. After about five minutes of waiting and expecting something horrible, nothing happened. Servants and the cleaning crew came out of hidden hallways and swept up the broken mess. Emma walked up to the bottom of the steps and gazed at the spot where Erik disappeared. She saw from the corner of her right eye, a young girl with golden brown curls sprinting up to the managers, along with a man with auburn hair running after her.

" Christine wait, Christine!" Emma backed away a bit, but stayed in hearing range.  
" What happened! Did he say anything to you?"

" Christine, let us go. We need to leave immediately." The man came up behind Christine and put his arm around her shoulder.

" No Raoul, I want to know if he said anything to them."

" I thought he was no part of your past now. You promised me."

" I am not breaking my promise if I am just curious about the man. Please Monsieur Firmin, what did he say?" Firmin blinked a few times and some of the color which was absent came back.

" There was a soft, feathery whisper in my ear. It was a lovely whisper."

" I think the man is ill." Raoul implied. He attempted to pull his beloved wife away, but was only greeted with a frown.

" What did the whisper say, please Monsieur. It's extremely vital to me."

" It had said, 'The ghost has resurrected.' " The man blinked and shook his head. He smoothed his hands over his coat and paused over his front pocket. A puzzled look came across his face. " There is a slip of paper in my pocket. How did it get there?"

" Well, take it out, let me see!"

Firmin unfolded the paper. " It is written out to you, Christine."

" Me?"

" I am not going through this again Christine! We are leaving this place, this evil dwelling and we are never returning!"

" You are going to take me away from my home, my childhood, and to add to that my dream career."

" No, I am going to take you away from the devil! If you remember dear, you said so yourself you wanted to leave this place, even if that includes dragging you away." Raoul explained, a hint of plea in his voice. He bowed his head.

" He may have forced me back down with him, but he was there for me when my father hadn't a chance. And, I just want to know if he is well. Raoul . . ."

" I love you, Christine, but if you do not recall my darling, he almost killed me, and let alone you! I will not have you in harms way. We are leaving and that is final!" Raoul ordered. He walked away from the frantic girl.

" Raoul, you are making a scene out of this. Monsieur Firmin, I am very thankful for your invitation to this wonderful party, but I must leave for the time being. If you could give me that note and send any other notes further to my current address that would be appreciated." Christine succumbed to Raoul's reasonable pleads. The couple walked away arms entwined, bickering to each other.

" Emma, would you like another glass of wine?" Tucker handed her the cup and watcher her gulp the liquid down.

" It tastes funny, what kind is that?" Emma questioned, watching the dark red substance swirl. All of a sudden Emma's head started to spin heavily, and her nerves began to shake. Tucker walked away from her, stating he needed to use the restroom, and that when he arrived back, they would dance a bit more. All Emma could do was nod and attempted to keep her body from collapsing. After a minute or two, she felt a presence behind her, but her feelings were hazy and her eyelids heavy.

" Emma, would you take my arm in a dance?" Erik whispered, that mesmerizing voice. Emma turned to him and realized he changed his clothes, but kept his mask.

"It would be an honor."

Erik grabbed the girls hands and aligned them like they had practiced in the lair. They began to twirl to the music and began to spin faster and faster. Emma stared into the man's electric blue eyes. She noticed outside the pupil was a tint of neon green. The more she was submerged into Erik's eyes, the more they seemed to be confused. At times they were bright blue, other, dark blue green. Her eyes dropped down to his full lips, one side was a little bit bigger than the other, cracked and mutilated. Emma could see from where his right lower eyelid, the skin was pulled tight. These small deformities played no harm on the man's looks, especially on his left side. His jaw bone was strong and his cheek bones were prominent amongst his pale, creamy skin. From the beginning of the man's smoothed back hair line, Emma could see gray mingle in with the dark, thin black mass of hair. " Why did you lie to me about the date?"

Erik saw the girl interrogating his face, but tried not to break into a sweat or look away from her searching eyes.

" I had to see if you were telling the truth or not. It was only for my own protection."

While she looked about his face, he gazed intently into her eyes, attempting to avoid the crowds burning stares. Her eyes were a wild auburn, like a vortex of leaves on an autumn day. They were an extremely light brown, which made them take on the appearance of an orange color. There were streaks of green, and dark brown slicing the iris in all different directions. Emma's face seemed to grow exceedingly more pallid as the days she spent in the lair went on. The flatness of her cheeks still carried the usual cherry glow they always presumed. He looked at her hair, its black curls resembled a temptation waiting to be entwined. From the pit of her eyes, Erik noticed the exhaust and haze in them, they didn't shine their usual spark of glee. There was something different. It wasn't the shine on her oval shaped lips, or the shimmer on her eyelids. Her head rolled easily from left to right and her steps were slow and unsure, even after their lesson. Yes, something wasn't quite right, but he couldn't decipher what exactly it was. The last note of the song was carried out by a solo violinist, the same person that Erik had witnessed trying out. Emma's frilled head collapsed onto his chest and he froze in surprise. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading.  
" Is the ceiling suppose. . .to be spinning? Is it New Years yet? I think. . .I nee-ed some. . .air." Emma forced out.

Erik nodded his head and supported her by holding onto her waist. She kept her head low while walking through the hallways and up the staircases. As they walked, Emma's demeanor changed from sickly, to extremely intoxicated. When they reached the final opening, Erik picked the girl up and readied himself to climb up.

" Woo-who!" Emma shouted as Erik climbed up, rolling his eyes at the girl. They emerged onto the roof of the Opera house. " Wow that was fun, hey look a the big horse thing. It's holding a harp. Wow! Look at those stars."

" Emma what has happened to you?" Erik asked, trying to steady the girl on the roof shingles. Emma walked to the end of the roof and stood at the edge. The air whipped her hair around, like a flag flapping in the freezing breeze.

" Well, I was with Tucker and we danced around the room."

" No, I mean why are you acting so?"

" I had too much to drink. We're really fucking high up!"

" I don't trust you being that close to the edge of the roof. Why don't you come further back so I don't have to peel you off the-"

" Look, a nightingale! Wait for me!" Emma backed up a few feet, and leaped off the roof. The air was thick and cold on Emma's face. She blinked a few times, and frowned to find she wasn't flying. " Hey, what happened?"

" Are you crazy! You almost jumped to your death! If. . .If not for me, you would have been flat on the ground below us. I think I should take you back home now, you have had to much to drink." Erik yelled, his body laid out across half the roof, his head and arms were extended over the edge, his hands cradling Emma's stomach. He lifted up until Emma's body was back on the roof, safely. Erik stood up, wiped off his shirt and pants, and adjusted his mask. Never in his life has he had to save someone so many times in just a few short months.

" Wow, you're really strong!" The girl blurted. She stood up and mimicked Erik, brushing off her skirt. " That was a ree-aally brave thing, brave thing. . . Ha I just said that twice, and I didn't mean to. Any-who, you were ree-aally brave saving me like that. I could have fallen."

" Fallen! You jumped!"

" Why do your eyes glow in the night. They look as if they're on fire, I want to touch them!"

" No, Emma. My eyes aren't for your own entertainment." Erik inferred, staring down at the active city of Paris.  
Emma came closer to the slumped mass up against the statue. He looked up and his eyes burned white fire into her tame, hazy eyes. She smiled and laughed whole heartedly, and came even closer to Erik. She reached out and placed her hands on his ribs and traveled up his jacket. Erik gasped out heavy breaths and out of fear of his overpowering lust, he grabbed her wrists and tried to push her back, but the unthinkable happened. Emma's feet perked up onto her tip-toes and her mouth ran right into his, his muscles tensing in his back and jaw line. The sensation of flesh against flesh stirred Erik's insides. Their lips were identical in size and lush. He pushed against her lips until he could feel the hardness of the girls teeth. Involuntarily, he encircled his arms around her back as she traced her long, pudgy fingertips along his neckline. Emma paused a moment to take a breath and returned to Erik's swollen lips with her mouth open. It was more than Erik could take and he drew back, his eyes shameful. He pushed Emma back, with more thrust than he wanted to. The girl stumbled, tripping on a loose shingle and fell back. Erik waited for the girl to get up but panicked when she didn't move. He groaned and walked forward to pick up the girl. Her breath was short and quiet, and her face was of a real angel, but he looked away from her, his heart too broken to be mended back together by just a kiss. This man didn't want to love again, he was too afraid, and too fed up with his heart being picked and torn to pieces. The sky opened up to let out a gust of white, crystalized snow, Emma mumbled under her cloudy breath. Erik closed his eyes and thought of his past.

" Why must I be granted a life with tragedy."

The girl who was leaning against his chest mumbled once again. A snowflake landed on her eyelash.

" Why must it be me?" He asked as his thin finger gently wiped away the flake.


	14. Snow balls

Chapter 14

Her sleep was deep and blank. The sound of a humming melody and the crack of hot embers shook her from her drunken slumber. Each eyelid struggled to lift, and her pupils were sensitive to the brass glow of the fire. From head to toe, there was a distinct ache, but the splitting pound on the top of her head was deafening. Emma nestled her head into the arch of a chest? Wait, that didn't seem right. Emma perked her head up to see a sleeping Erik, quietly exhaling onto her hair. His mouth was curved into a slight smile. Last but most definitely not least, she realized that both of them were without clothes.

Emma shot up from the couch and let out a loud, surprised gasp. Sweat beads slid down the side of her temple. She checked behind her and finally let out the gasp she had held in. It was only a dream! Her head felt heavy amongst her body, and her eyes were lazy. The fire did indeed glow brass, but wasn't flaming. Emma wiggled her toes and yawned deeply. The hazy memory of the Parisian skyline crossed her mind. But how is that so? The last thing she remembers clearly is Erik appearing on the steps, and the girl Christine running up. But what had happened after that? She didn't have that many drinks, in fact, it would have taken her more than four wine glasses to become so intoxicated. Or did she have more than four?

The sound of a wailing violin pierced through her concentrated mind to the point where her eyes closed in enlightenment. Surely Erik could play, but with such beauty, and to hear it in person, was a feeling she would never experience again. Then, a voice so strong and pure come out from the music room. Though it was all sung in Italian, the words were presented in a way that made them filled with meaning and passion. Without anymore wait, Emma stumbled up from the couch and stalked over to the crack between the door and the frame. Erik was sitting on a wooden chair, his legs parted and the violin tucked under his chin. The bow glided across the instrument with gentle force and intention. His face was blank, but his eyes shone with emotion that only so many can detect. They were glazed over with dream and sadness, it was as if she was looking at an abandoned heart. One filled with such emotions that are kept locked up, is a dangerous feat.

Emma knocked on the door, the violin stopped and was leaned against the organ.

" What is it?" Erik's voice was shaky and unstable. This violin must have exerted all of emotions possibly felt.

" Can I come in?"

" If you must. . ."

" Good morning, Erik."

" Morning! It is at least after noon. You have been asleep for quite some time. Did I wake you?"

" No, not exactly. It's this splitting headache, and I feel like shit! I'm guessing, from my luck, you don't have any Advil, or Tylenol or any drugs at that matter."

" I haven't an idea of what you are speaking of." He answered in a careless tone.

" I take that as a no then."

" What is Advil, and Tylenol?" Erik asked, buttoning up his loose shirt.

" Well Advil is medicine for intense pain, you know for like headaches, back pains, muscle pains and on and on. Tylenol is narrowed down to headaches and fevers. And then there's. . . uh. . ."

" And then there is, what?"

" Midol, but I doubt you'd want to hear about that."

" Why not?" Erik returned to the bench in front of the organ. He absent mindedly started playing a tune on the keys.

" Never mind. So tell me, and be honest, how trashed was I?" Emma questioned, as she fidgeted nervously with her dress. She didn't realize that her corset had been undone. Blood rushed to her cheeks and filled them with a feathery pink color.

" Trashed. I think that is the only thing you didn't fall in to." Erik said confused, he stopped playing his organ and turned to Emma.

" No, I mean how intoxicated did I get?"

The man scratched his peach fuzzed chin until he turned to his organ and tapped out a melody on the mantel of the music holder. A rosy blush crept up his neck and invaded his cheeks.

" Ok, I remember being on the roof, how did that happen? Did I do anything stupid at the party? What happened after midnight?"

" We danced to a waltz. Yes, you did well. Then you felt light headed, so I took you to the roof, where you almost jumped to your fate! But luckily I have the reflexes to react to your stupidity."

" It wasn't my fault, I was drunk remember?" Emma blurted. She took a seat in an armchair across from the organ, were two night stands covered with papers and candles sat. Next to one of the night stands was a hutch, with two glass cabinets filled with books and papers. She picked at a box of trinkets lying half open on the arm or the chair.

" I do honestly wonder when I will "forget" to save your life. Or if I will ever not have to save it in the first place."

" Yeah, but you love me anyway!" Emma stood up and sat next to Erik at the organ who, in a state of confusion, froze and stared at the girl. " What, it's a phrase."

" A phrase that means nothing to me." Erik confessed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the disheartened look on Emma's face. The phantom nudged it off and returned to his music.

An awkward silence filled the moist air.

" Well, I'm going to leave now!"Emma rose from the bench and stretched her cramped muscles.

" Where are you heading off to?"

" I'm going to go outside for a bit. Just a random question, is there snow outside?" A smirk ran across Emma's perched lips.

" Do you honestly think I would have the slightest idea?" Erik jabbed the question at Emma, and turned back to his music. " But, I believe last night it began to lightly snow."

" Good enough, see you around lunch."

" Emma, where are you. . ." Erik sighed. The girl was incredibly rude sometimes.

Emma walked back down to her chamber and dressed into some clothes. She picked a grey outfit – just a plain white blouse and a grey skirt. She then stepped into a pair of black pants to keep her legs warm in the outside cold. Her hair was still somewhat curled from the night before, though most of them were much more messier than before. She grabbed her cloak and laced her boots and hurried to the front door. When passing the front door, Erik was still in the music room, pounding at the keys and groaning at the temperamental instrument.

" Goodbye, Erik." Emma bellowed into the music room.

Erik raised a hand, " You will get sick." And returned to his forming melody.

" And you're no fun!" She yelled from the double doors and slammed them shut behind her.

The dock was moist and cold. Emma wrapped her cloak closer around her neck and carefully walked towards the boat. She took a seat on the miniature bench inside the boat, and pushed the shaft into the water. Her body shuttered in the cold the whole way across the lake. The girl hummed a quiet song, feeling the silence enclosing around her. Hitting the bank of the lake, Emma jumped out of the boat and attempted to tie it to a metal pole, but once again, it receded back into the blackness of the underground lake.

" Whatever, do what you want!" She yelled after the boat, waving her finger at it. " It's not like I'm freaked out or anything."

The wind bit into Emma's skin and made her body shiver to keep warm. The area outside the Rue Scribe was a white, snow heaven, the bare trees sprinkled with the freezing powder. Every time her eyes would see the snow, she couldn't resist smiling at it. Her feet crunched down into it while she proceeded into the heart of the tiny park. It was deserted, not a soul in sight. Emma dashed forward and spun in circles, throwing snow up into the air, like confetti. She danced and laughed around the park, finally jumping into a built up pile of snow. While lying on her stomach in the cold specks of wetness, she cuffed snow in her frozen red hands and licked it off her fingers. The snowflakes tingled her warm tongue and disappeared into oblivion. Her fingers pricked with pain, but it was worth it. A twig snapped behind the girl, so she climbed up off the snow pile to see who was there. Her eyes scoured the tiny park in search of anyone, or anything at that matter.

Nothing.

Figures!

Emma turned to go back to her snow pile but something caught her eye. Something near the bush, it was a dark blur. She waited for it to move again, but found it still. So she returned to her beloved snow. A Gosh Groban song rolled off her tongue, while her hands dug into the snow, licking it off her fingers like cotton candy on a stick. Crack! Emma's head whirled around again to find snow shaking off a branch on a tree. She was beginning to become very suspicious.

The wind picked up and swirled all the loose snow around, making it look like a blurry fog, a fog which whipped the skin of any feeling. Almost like poor Erik's heart. So much pain and misery has stripped him of any kind of feeling, including guilt and love. The most prominent feelings were of hate and sadness. Nothing could be done to help his frozen heart, except for maybe one person. One who was like no other.

' But, she is nothing like Christine, why do I feel something for her. No, I do not feel anything for her, she is only a guest, she is only a guest! God, Erik pull yourself together, you do not need any love. Yet her eyes are so beautiful and her hair smells of roses. Maybe I could feel something for her. . .'

At that precise moment a snowball flew through the air and hit Erik square on the side of the head. His face stung from the hard ball of snow. His gloved hand wiped away the residue, while Emma fell to the ground in laughter. Erik glared at her, feeling foolish for being caught sneaking around. Emma rolled around in the snow, fits of laughter trembling her body. Tears began to swell up in her big, autumn eyes.

" You. . . Haha. . .you should have. . .haha...seen your face. You. . .should have seen it. . .when the snowball. . . hit your cheek!" Emma laughed, then perched herself on her elbow, facing the bush Erik attempted to hide behind.

" How did you know I was there?" Erik groaned, caressing his burning cheek. The mixture of humility and pain throbbed in his face.

" Wouldn't you think, since you are the phantom, to wear something more camouflaged? I mean, its completely white outside, yet you come out in all black." She shook her head to relieve it of the built up snow.

" The phantom does not wear, white." He stated disgustingly.

" Then you deserved what you got for spying on me!"

" I was not spying on you! I was simply trying to see what you were up to." Erik declared with a superior air. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked around to make sure it was free of prying eyes.

" What a lie! You deserve another snowball in the face!" Emma stooped down and bunched up another ball of snow.

" Emma, I am warning you! If you come near me with that I will be forced. . !" Erik threatened as he backed up until he ran into a tree. " Take one more step, Mademoiselle and see what fate lies ahead of you!"

Emma took another step closer to Erik and aimed to hit him square in the face. Right before Emma was ready to let go of the snowball, Erik elbowed the tree behind him and a huge blanket of snow came crumpling down, striking Emma on the head, knocking her down. Now it was Erik's turn to laugh. Though it wasn't as boisterous as Emma's, you could at least count it as a chuckle.

" Did I not warn you?" Erik questioned. Emma smirked up at him, and pushed herself off the ground. She bent down and made another snowball, aimed it at Erik's head, but missed and hit his chest. He looked down at his chest, then back at Emma with a spark she had never seen in his eyes. " You will pay for that!"

" Oh really, what are you going to do? Choke me with your " lasso", or are you going to smother me in the snow?" She added sarcastically.

" To be quite frank, I like both those ideas. But I have one of my own, that if planned right, should work."

" Really and what is that?" Emma asked, taking a dramatic step forward, Erik took a step back. Emma quickly stooped down and formed another ball of snow. When she looked back up from her snowball, she found Erik missing.

She spun around in circles, looked behind the tree and the bush, but found no Erik. Another gust of wind sent tiny particles around the small park, weaving into Emma's hair and clothes. Her fingers scratched at her head in confusion. In the dead silence, Emma thought she heard something swishing through the air. Soon enough she found it to be a snowball. Erik cackled into the wintery air. It sounded like it came from the bush, so Emma went over to look for him. No one was there and to the girls annoyance, she had been hit with another snowball.

" Erik, this isn't funny anymore. Where are you?"

A whisper caressed Emma's cheek. " I am way up in the heavens!" It said.

The girl looked up and saw the black mass standing between two branches high up in the tree. It stood proud and dominant. But Emma didn't think it was so great, though she thought it amazing he was up there.

" That's cheating! You can't do that, that's not fair to me. How am I supposed to hit you if your twenty feet up in the air?" Emma whined, she placed her hand on her hip and spun a white mottled strand of hair around her finger.

" You failed to mention the rules, so how on earth am I cheating? You could not hit me even if I was on the ground."

" Erik, get your ass down here before I make a scene!" Emma shouted up to the hanging man. He swayed back and forth in the branches gracefully.

" If I must."

Erik swung from branch to branch without hesitation. He climbed to the ground in about half a minute. Emma waited at the stump of the tree, secretly scheming against the phantom. When both his feet were on the ground, he turned towards Emma, and was greeted happily with a face full of snow. The force of Emma's hand knocked his mask loose to the ground, and Erik scrambled to retrieve it. He looked up quickly to see if Emma had seen his face, but she was running in the opposite direction.

' She is just like the rest of them, they all run!'

" Erik, aren't you going to get me? I thought you said I was going to pay. Well glaring at me isn't going to make me pay!" Emma teased in a playful tone. Erik was relieved to see that Emma hadn't seen his face. He felt so happy he ran after the girl.

They chased each other around the park like two children on a playground. They laughed and threw snowballs at each other. They jumped over bushes, and Erik climbed trees once again just to get on Emma's nerves. But when he would get down from the tree, he would be happily greeted with another snowball. Erik chased Emma down, running with all his speed and agility. For being his age, he didn't feel too out of shape, but did feel a continuous burning feeling in his chest and stopped for a quick breather.

" What's the matter?. . Is the big, scary Phantom out of breath?" Emma coughed out. Her heart raced from the running as well, but she was having a blast with Erik.

" Are you mocking me?"

" Maybe." She stuck out her tongue at Erik, then smiled at him, all her teeth showing off with the white snow.

Erik began to run after Emma, and she once again took off in any direction her feet took her. She looked behind her to see where he was, but became confused when she saw he wasn't behind her. Then, out from a bush he came trotting behind her with a snowball in hand. Emma tried to run faster, but when she did, her feet caught within her dress, and she tripped flat on her face. Behind her, Erik didn't have enough time to stop and tripped right over her slumped body. He landed on top of the loose snow, saving him from a hard fall. Emma came up behind him and sat on his back. Erik's body froze and butterflies flew around in his stomach, which made his nerves jump around. In one quick move he could have her on her back, but decided against the idea. This isn't the first time Emma was close to him, but the other time she intoxicated.

" Emma what in gods name are you-" Erik gasped, and stopped mid sentence when he felt the coolness of the snow slide down his bare back.

" Are we even now?"

" Blasted girl! That is cold!"

" Yeah, it's called snow! All right I'm cold, and my dress is soaked all the way through. Come on, you're paddling home."

The two of them walked back to the entrance of the Rue Scribe, with Erik chucking snow at Emma. She occasionally pushed the man around. He agreed to paddle home only because she threatened to pour more snow down his back.

The boat ride seemed to go much faster than usual. It could have been from the playful air, or that they were talking about a variety of topics. When they arrived back at the house, Erik demanded that Emma quickly go and strip of her wet clothing before she catches a cold. Following Erik's orders she retired to her chamber to change and dry. Erik went to his bedroom to find some clothing to change into. The room was cooler than the main room, and the black walls made it appear even more gloomy. He searched through his dresser for something to wear. He picked out a white shirt and a black pair of pants. While buttoning his shirt, he glanced at Christine's last rose that he gave her. She didn't want to take it with her when she left, so he kept it. The withered rose compelled him to come closer to it. He held it between his fingers and caressed its brown petals. Erik closed his eyes to remember his angel. Her beautiful golden hair, and her deep blue eyes. He remembered her soft, creamy face against his coarse, unrefined skin. His heart tugged toward her beauty, and tears of never forgotten love began to form in his hollow eyes.

' She was all I ever had, and I let her go.'

A knock interrupted his flashback. Erik opened the door to find Emma leaning on the doorframe. Her glowing face transformed into a look of worry. The man tried to pull himself together and tried not to shed a tear. But it was inevitable and a single crystal fled down his unmasked cheek. Emma placed her hand on his cheek and with her thumb, whipped the lonely water droplet away. Erik removed Emma's hand from his face and proceeded to go into the music room.

" Erik wait. What's wrong?" Emma asked, her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

" Must you ask such broad questions. You know very damned well what's wrong!"

" But why do you still cry, why do you still torture yourself?" Emma inquired. Erik fisted his hands into a ball at his sides until they grew white from pressure.

" If I could have figured that question out by now, do you not think that I would have stopped!" Erik took a seat at his organ and began to pound out unfamiliar notes throughout the house.

" I'm sorry that we bonded and I'm sorry that I was nice to you. In fact, I wish I could take everything back for you, Erik. You are a dear friend to me, and when something bothers you, it bothers me." Emma stated, trying to sound confident. She placed her clammy palm on his shoulder. She could feel the bone pierce through the shirt. His skin shuttered away from her touch. " It's January now, and I've only been here about 4 months, but I feel I have no idea who you are. I want to learn about you Erik. I'm sorry I am such a trouble to you."

" Do not blame anything that is my complication, on you. Such things are meant to be a certain way forever." Erik turned to Emma, and looked at her serenely. " Would you like some tea? I have some in the kitchen."

" Oh, uh, sure why not." Emma was glad that the subject changed. Erik lightened up a bit and went into the kitchen to make some tea. He came back with two teacups and saucers steaming with hot tea and honey.

" I put honey in it."

" Its ok, I love honey. Actually I like anything sweet."

" That is probably why you act like so. My back still burns with that ball of snow you forced down my cloak and shirt." The man shivered at his spoken words.

" Everyone needs some snow down their back, at least once in their life! It was fun having a snowball fight. We'll have to do it again."

" Maybe, that is if you are good enough." Erik picked up the saucer and stood in front of the fire to warm his pulsating shivers.

" I'm not an animal, you know."

They both sipped their tea and talked about various things.

The fire burned the coals until they were all out of fuel. Emma was asleep on the couch and Erik was in the music room, unable to sleep. He tapped out a melody on the music mantle, occasionally writing down notes on manuscript paper. Out of the main room, Erik heard Emma muttering something, then she remained silent. Erik chuckled inside. What a day! He had never felt so free and pleasant. She made him feel differently then Christine had ever made him feel, yet his heart still stuck with Christine.

' But why? It is because you love her, but she does not love you. Yes she did, she did love me. No, she thought you were a monster, especially when she saw your face. But I did everything for her. But Erik is not a man, he is a monster!'

Erik pounded his fists on the keys and produced a loud ring of musical notes. " I am not a monster!" He shouted to himself.

Emma twitched in her sleep. These mind wars he's been having lately were driving him over the edge. All these thoughts caused by one innocent girl. And she hasn't shied away from him, only he shying away from her. How long was he going to have to live his life being the phantom? How long was he going to have to pretend his happiness? How long was music going to be his savior? When was someone going to be there to catch his falling tears?

' I guess I should take her down to her bedroom, I will be blamed for it in the morning if she remains there.'.

Emma muttered in her sleep, her arm twitching beside her stomach. She was so much at peace while sleeping, that Erik took extreme care not to wake her while picking her up from the rose couch. Her oval face glowed a light peach color in the main room from the glimmering hot coals. Erik studied her face and body, taking in the tranquility of her features. The girl has grown thin from lack of food, and dark circles outlined her almond eyes from being so deep in the earth. Yet, she has begun to get used to the life she was chosen to live with him, and he somehow respected her for that. Emma twitched again, sending her hair in a chaos of ripples, and forced the man above her to move towards the spiral stairs. This reminded Erik of the time with Christine, his angel in his arms, sleeping restlessly. But Emma had not fainted and had not flown away from him.

Erik laid Emma across the bed, and spread a quilt over her slumbering body. His fingers twirled a lock of her charcoal hair and tucked it behind her ear. He flinched back when the girl stirred and rolled to face him. She remained asleep. Erik let out the breath he held in. He felt his heart racing, but he also felt a sense of feeling toward Emma, one that wasn't evident before this day. He bowed down to her, and his fingers invaded her face, feeling the smooth warmth of her skin. They slid down to her neck, and traveled farther until they slid off her shoulder. Before the ghost made his leave, he lifted the quilt up to her shoulders and turned toward the door.

" You honestly have not a clue of the feelings you stir in my head, do you? But you are driving me crazy!" Erik whispered to no one in particular, mostly to himself. "Good night, Emma. Sweet dreams."


	15. Having Doubts?

Dear Readers,

I thank you once again for reviewing! I have those who have been with me since the beginning and I cherish you! I also thank you new readers! Well here is chapter 15... I guess I should mention I don't own any form of Phantom of the Opera. The only thing I do own are the words I put down and my character Emma: ) ps... WE HAVE PLOT! Kinda...

Time Morph

End of March. . .

Chapter 15

Erik was sitting comfortably in his favorite chair, in front of the fire place reading an interesting book. He was too intent in the book, he didn't realize Emma came up from the stairwell. She was in her sleep wear and didn't even bother brushing her hair. Yawning, she stretched her arms in the air and walked onto the kitchen. Erik continued to read his book without the knowledge of her being there. Random clatter came from the cracked kitchen door, and a curse came flying through the air. Emma came back through the door with a small plate full of crackers and a mug filled with wine.

" I'm so sick of drinking wine every freaking meal. I suggest the next time I go out, I'll buy us something else to drink." She stated, sucking on the rim of her mug.

Erik remained buried in his book, a leather bond, title less, small print, book.

" Erik are you listening to me!" Emma squalled, slamming down the mug onto the coffee table.

Erik did not respond, for he didn't hear anything around him.

" Fine, ignore me."

Emma grabbed a cracker off the plate and touched it to her lips. They parted and her teeth gently bit into the corners of the cracker, making small crunching noises. It sounded as if a squirrel was chewing on a piece of nut. She continued this for a few more crackers, littering crumbs all over and around her. Erik fidgeted around in his chair, uncrossing and crossing his legs. Emma noticed this and used it to her advantage. She grabbed the plate of crackers and strode over to the chair. The arm of the chair barely creaked when she planted her butt on it. Her face came extremely close to Erik's ear, and without laughing, nibbled on the cracker once more.

" Can you not see I'm attempting to read a book. . .What are you doing?" Erik mumbled from between his lips. Emma took another nibble on the cracker.

" Oh, just eating breakfast." She answered, spewing out crumbs all over the armchair and Erik.

" Well, beg your pardon, but do you mind?" He said as he wiped the crumbs off his shirt carelessly.

" Oh sorry. Where are my manners!" Emma exaggeratedly said. " Would you like one?"

" Emmaline. . ." Erik rumbled in a potent, threatening tone.

" Ok, I understand." She was about to get up, but decided to do one more cracker. She picked one off the tray and came once again close to Erik, but not as close as before. She nibbled the whole cracker into her mouth. The man before her groaned and shot up, sending her down to the floor with a thump.

" Ow!" Emma squealed, rubbing her tail bone while getting up.

" I can't even read a book without you annoying me! It has been too long, too long since I have had privacy of my own. Whenever I try to do something myself, you always have to intrude. With your stupid jokes and sayings and snowball wars! I have been pushed over the edge!" Erik pursued the girl. She stepped back from him, but he kept going. Out of unknown rage, Erik smacked the silver plate out of her hand, sending the metal clashing to the ground. Emma shot the man a deadly look, one which made him draw back from his attack.

" What did I ever do to make you hostile towards me? You had no right to do that. I have tried to be your friend the whole time I've been here! Why do you keep pushing me away? I wasn't the one who left you! I wasn't the one who said you were ghastly and it certainly wasn't I who shunned you from society. So don't you dare take your blind rage out on me!"

" Emma, I didn't-"

" Don't make excuses! You know, you have made me the pin cushion for your emotions." This last sentence Emma said with such desperation that even Erik dropped his head. " And it's not fair. . ." Emma sighed heavily, and walked toward Erik. She placed her fingers under his chin and pushed it up to make him look at her eye to eye. " It's not fair because I can't be mad at you. . . You gave me a home. You have shown me enough compassion that I have to make it up to you."

" You are right on one account. I have been using you to let out my rage, but not intentionally. And as for the other account, you are wrong. You have nothing to make up for. You have lived a life of sinlessness. No, it should be the contrary. I should make it up to you. For so long you have been trying to be my friend, and for so long I have ignored it. I'm used to keeping to what I know."

They stood erect, and looked at each other awkwardly. Erik half smiled to the girl, seeing her eyes cool down from a light orange to a light brown. She looked as if she just poured her mind out into the air. Erik knew how that felt, he did it often. The crack of an ember in the fireplace awoke them back to the present. The phantom moved gracefully to the mantel of the hearth and stared into the fire, his eyes reflecting the dancing colors of red and blazing orange. How intoxicating his every move was to the girl standing there. Oh! And when the ghost would talk, just talk, it would make her weak in the knees, and in the purest part of her body. She shook herself out of the enticing thoughts, and cleared them from her head. Emma moved to the armchair and picked up the leather bond book from the arm rest. She peered into it and was taken back by what the scripture had said. The sentence she had read was exactly as follows:

'However great the service you rendered him, Erik may end by forgetting it; and you know that nothing can restrain Erik, not even Erik himself.'

" Erik, you little devil!" The man's eyes shuffled from the fire to Emma leaning against the armchair. An eyebrow lifted on the left side his face, and an innocent smile curved the tip of his lips. " You were reading this behind my back, you could have asked me or even told me." Emma argued mildly.

" I don't understand how someone would know so much about me. . .! Unless Christine and that fool she is joined to had revenge upon me!" He gently took the leather bond book from Emma's hands and gazed at it. " Daroga! Curse that man! He has taken advantage of the freedom I lent him!"

" Erik it doesn't matter, this book hasn't been written yet! You could still find out."

" What?" Erik flipped back to the beginning page and stared in shock. " 1910. . ."

" It's such an interesting concept to understand. . ."

" Yes. The most interesting concept."

" Erik, is. . .is everything in that book, true?"

" Well, not word for word, but the general story. . . Just about."

The man tossed the book onto the couch and stalked towards the mess of crackers and jam smudged on the carpet. He began to pick up the crumbs and mount them onto the silver tray.

" Here let me do that." She moved to help, but Erik insisted he do it, since indeed it was his fault.

" But you could go into the kitchen, and under the washbasin is a large vial filled with greenish liquid, retrieve it with a washcloth."

Emma did exactly that. She walked into the kitchen and pulled open the cupboard underneath the sink. An array of different colored liquids filled it, along with a pile of white and green dishrags. The greenish liquid-filled vial came into view and she grabbed it along with the dishrag. Straightening, she caught her reflection in the washbasin. Her hair was a mess, and her sleep wear didn't leave much to the imagination. A flood of red rushed into Emma's cheeks until they burned hot. Placing the vial and dishrag down, she attempted to tame her long mane. Feeling it was the best she could do at the moment, she decided to go back to the gallery.

Erik sat there, his hands on his knees, staring into the fireplace. His eyes reflected every wave of the dancing flames, a parade of red and orange. Snapping out of his day dream, he snatched the items from her hands, making Emma jump at the sudden harshness. From his white over-shirt, she could see every muscle in his upper arms and back working to scrub the Persian carpet.

" Erik, can I ask you something?"

" Depends on the matter of the question."

" Well, it involves the book."

" Mmm."

" And you. . ."

". . .If you must. . ." Erik stopped his frenzied scrubbing and stood up. Emma paused a moment, deciding to choose her words more carefully this time. It was evident that the phantom was very emotional today. " Well?"

" I'm getting there. . . My question was, at the end of the book, it says you die. But it's very clear your alive now. Why?"

The man sighed," It is a lie. Christine knows very well that I'm alive. It was her idea in the first place to make believe I was dead. In that way, she could live a happy life, but be content to know that her Angel of Music was still alive. You see, if I died, she would have blamed my death on herself and she would have died of guilt. . .I remember the time I saw her before my "death". It wasn't the night I let her and her husband go. It was a week after that and she decided to come and see me. It was true, I was dying, but she saved me and told me that if I died she would die from my death. . .We planned in my false death so she could visit me. She could come to me without upsetting her husband. And she has visited once or twice in the passed two years. But the last she came to me, I told her it would be best if she didn't come back, because my feelings for her were growing strong again. I told her I would give her a sign of some sort that it was save for her to visit again. She agreed, almost happily. . . At the masquerade I gave the managers a note to give the girl. It had a secret message in it for her to know."

" But won't people know that your alive from the New Year's Eve party?"

" No, they will still think of me as a real ghost now. They found the remains of a man down in a corridor. Christine convinced them it was me."

" What does 'The ghost has resurrected' mean?"

" I means my soul has been replenished. It was the message to Christine. How did you know that?"

" I was there when the managers had read the note to her. She looked quite pale that night and her hubby was really alert. He called you the devil."

" Yes I know. He has always thought me as the devil. Even after I let him live, and when I let his precious wife go, he still figures me a monster. And he's right."

"Your not a monster Erik. I don't think you are." Emma thought out loud, fiddling with the ends of her long wavy hair.

" No Emma. He's right, I am a monster. That is the only thing he has thought right."

" Erik, Raoul is a stupid man. He doesn't know you like I do."

" I had killed people, murdered them, sometimes because they knew too much, sometimes because they were up to no good. And, one by accident."

" But look at you now. You let a total stranger, from the future, live with you. . . Not even Christine can deny that hospitality from you." The grandfather clock chimed twelve in the afternoon. " I'd better go."

" Where are you going?" The man moved towards the girl by the stairwell.

" I was thinking of getting dressed, is that all right with you?"

" Is there any particular reason for you to get dressed. . .?" Erik questioned, the tone of his voice was cold and virulent.

" Maybe. What if there is a reason? What would you do about it?"

" I would-"

" You would do absolutely nothing. I wouldn't let you. I have my own freedom when I'm in the past or present. . . I hate the ego of men!" Emma said playfully.

" It isn't to see that fop is it? What's his name, Hooker?" Erik hissed and came even closer to where Emma was standing.

" His name is Tucker and he's not a fop. You were spying on me again! What is it with you and sneaking around?"

" I am the phantom of the opera, the opera ghost, one of spectral shade! It is in my nature! Get used to it! And, I was going to bring you with me today on my errands, just so you could see up close what exactly I do. I don't just go around antagonizing people and frightening ballet girls. I have reason behind my madness. But I bet you do not wish to attend."

" Well! I . . . Uh. . ." Emma was speechless, not really out of shock or any emotion. Just the fact she didn't know what to say. She did have plans with Tucker, but being with Erik. . .

" I see, so you wish to spend the day with the patron. Fine, I understand." The ghost turned around and headed towards the front doors.

" Wait!" Emma beckoned to the shade standing at the door, his eyes glowing in the shadows. She worried her lip in return and thought about the situation once more. " I can't go. Can't you do it on a different day!"

" I suggest you hurry and get dressed, the fop is waiting!"

" Erik! Don't be like this!"

" I can't help it Emma. It's the way I am. You will never be able to change the way I am!"

" Fine. I'll see you at dinner then!" The girl turned around and ran down the stairs.

When the girl was gone, Erik lent against the wall, his fist curling up on the stone. Could this really prove his jealousy against that. . . new fop? Could this feeling be a disguise of love? ' She is beautiful, no matter how stubborn she gets. In fact at times, she is even more pretty than. . .'

Groaning, Erik jerked open the front doors and walked through them. Today would be a good day to harass the opera house. They will know the wraith of the Ghost and they will never forget it! Everyone will pay for his anger!

The air was cool and the sound of water beating on tin surrounded everything. ' Ha! It's raining. That should put a damper on her plans with that Hooker or whatever his name was. And what about the boat. She will never find the other way out!' Erik chuckled into the heart of the lake, disappearing into the sheet of darkness the lair provided.

'He is such an ass! That's all there is to say and it's true. He will never learn and I can tell from this that he has a lot of troubled thoughts that really need to be filtered. No wonder he has murdered so much!'

Emma stopped buttoning her shirt, realizing she hooked a few of them wrong. Snorting quietly, she redid the little pearl buttons all the way up to her neck. She still neglected to wear a corset, happily letting the dust gather on it in the trunk at the end of her bed. She hazily remembered the dance Erik and her shared.

'It was magical, almost like a dream. The music was splendid, the room was a whirl of gold and silver. People were dancing around in circles, people with masks and smiles on their faces. Then there was Erik. His lean body stood close to me, his breath mixed with mine. His hands were placed gently on my back, each finger spaced evenly. I remember staring at those eyes. In the light they were so dark and deep within his face, leaving the impression of a skeleton. An intoxicating skeleton not from the grave, but from the sky. Yet in the dark, his eyes are like two stars gleaming in the night. Erik. He took me in his arms and twirled me in circles. Lovely wide circles, mingling with the other dancers.'

Emma paused a moment to think hard about that night. Was it really a dream or did it actually happen? Shaking of the thought, she continued to the bathroom. Her fingers wrapped around the flower shaped facet and the other hand flipped her hair over the side of the porcelain tub. It was the only decent way to tame her thick, black mat of hair. Withdrawing from the rush of water, she wrung her hair out until strands formed loose ringlets. Her eyes shuffled from the tile floor to the small clock on top the mantel( She secretly bought it while out on her shopping errands ). It was growing closer to one thirty and she was due in front of the opera house in a half an hour. Emma decided it was best to have some time on her own before mingling with Tucker. Shoving on her boots, she headed to the front door, grabbing her cloak off the hanger before slipping out into the moist, lake air.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the dock. A strange beating echoed throughout the dock. Emma tilted her head, her ears straining to hear the distinct sound. Finding it unsatisfying, she continued to walk down the wooden dock, her footsteps mixing with the strange beat above her. She reached the end of the dock and cursed. The boat was missing! But it always returns!

Gasping Emma blurted, " That jealous bastard! He tied it up!"

Stomping the dock underneath her, the girl paused and tried to think logic out of the situation. Clearly he couldn't have one way out, he told Madame Giry to go out the other way. Emma was determined to fine this other way out. Returning to the front doors, she paused in front of the steps. Taking the lantern from its hook near the steps, she walked to the end of the cement island until she ran into a stone wall. Her fingers felt the wall for any bump or curve, like the ghost did for the mirror. It was unsuccessful. Emma checked the other side of the island, finding at first glance nothing but open lake water. Until a second glance gave her hope. Walking to the very edge of the island, she found a walkway which blended into the wall. No, it was an illusion. Emma stuck one foot out onto the walkway and found that there was about two feet wide of space to walk on. Anything would be good enough at the moment.

The girl concentrated every thought on her walking, for her clumsiness was a bad habit. The first few steps she took were very unstable. But soon her feet evened out and her pace grew faster. The sensation of someone following her tingled her body . Every so often she was forced to look back, but all that was visible was the darkness that surrounded her and the small lantern. She walked the path for about five minutes until it came to a dead end. A blank stone wall stared back at her in the glimmering candlelight, almost in a jesting way. Resting on the wall behind her, Emma was about to give up and just return home, to just be defeated by the ghost. But revenge was on her mind and she decided to feel the stone for a bump. Feeling up and down the wall, she finally found a bump, slightly sticking up. Pushing it, the blank space in front of her swivelled, revealing a dark walkway.

" Great, just what I need. More darkness!"

Holding the lantern in front of her, she proceeded down the hallway. The walls were very close together and Emma felt all the air would be squeezed out of it. Pausing just a few feet inside the hallway, she really thought of turning back now. But the door slammed shut behind her, and her thoughts of turning back were diminished. Sighing, she decided to proceed. No matter how much reassurance she repeated to herself, Erik would have been better company than a lantern. Down the path, she heard tiny noises, as if something was coming. Her breath stopped and so did her feet. Raising the light, she tried to see down the hallway, but she could only see a few feet in front of the lantern. Hearing the noises stop, she tried with all her will to continue down the hallway. The ground started to rise in a slight incline. . .

" How long will this last?" Emma asked under her breath.

As if a presence there heard her, a gust of freezing, cold air rushed past her, making the hair resting on her shoulders blow off. All the blood in the poor girls body froze. Her feet would not listen to her brain telling them to run. Now hearing the noises behind her, Emma quickly turned around to find out what was behind her. Squinting, she could see an orange glow down the hallway. Thinking it was a worker in the opera house, Emma called to the floating light, hoping it was a lantern. But within a matter of seconds, she realized it wasn't human. It was in fact, a blazing head coming towards her. Out of fear she dropped the lantern and ran for her life. The incline was more dramatic now, making it almost impossible to run.

Emma glanced over her shoulder and saw the head gaining on her. She pushed her legs harder, running as fast as possible. Looking back once more she ran right into a stone wall and fell onto the ground. She turned to her left and ran, but ended up running into another wall. The head was almost at the top of the incline by the time Emma found the opening. She pushed through it and kicked it closed behind her. Melting to the floor, she tried to catch her breath. Her heart was racing so fast she could hear it throbbing in her ears. After about a moment of resting, she realized she was in an abandoned hallway in the opera house.

" Thank you, God!"

Emma pushed off the ground and steadied herself. Fear crept into her mind and every shadow that was cast along the wall was suspicious. Now that all her confidence was stripped from her, the girl kept her fingers on the wall, guiding her through the haunting darkness. Her panic died down and the tears that were stuck in her eyes slowly dried.

The hallway was filled with deafening silence, one could hear a pin drop in the distance. Finding light down the empty corridor, Emma ran to it, praying when it finally arrived. She was right in front of the managers office, and from within she could hear panic stricken men arguing to themselves. The yelling voices were behind her now as she entered the main lobby. There was Tucker, waiting patiently for her arrival.

" Tucker! I'm over here!" Emma yelled across the lobby. The frenzy that was present before edge its way into her speech.

" Emma, what is wrong with you? What has happened to you?" He inquired, running his thumb over her bruised forehead.

" You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Can we just go now? I feel an evil presence in here." She added coldly, pointedly to her friend who stalks the opera house.

" Of course, my coach is outside waiting for us." Tucker grabbed hold of Emma's elbow and guided her to the door.

The sun was strong outside the opera house as the spring air blew around. Every where you looked, light glistened off the ground from the previous rain storm that had passed. The storm clouds were at the horizon now, far away from Parisian life. Tucker helped Emma into the wagon and jumped in himself. The coachman closed the door behind him and mounted the seat in the front. Emma gazed out the brougham window and watched the hustle and bustle of stores, watched children play ridiculous games and beggars huddled on the ground asking passers-by for money. Not long after they started moving the carriage stopped. The coachman came around and let the two of them out.

" Here we are." Tucker said, helping Emma once again out of the coach.

" Where exactly is here?"

" Down town Paris. We are dining at a restaurant called the Vེry."

They entered the restaurant and took their seats. Tucker gazed at Emma in an adoring manner. His facial features were smooth and kind, his eyes a soft green and his lips were turned up in a comfortable smile. Her hands rested upon the table pleasantly, her mind thinking deep into a subject. Then Tucker decided to bring up a matter which was bothering him for quite some time.

" Emma, something has happened. I can feel it and see it. From the first moment I saw you, I noticed you were tanner than most and your face was smooth, full of color. But now, now I look at a woman who is pale and her cheek bones stick out of her face. Your eyes look so lost. . . So aloof. If there is something wrong you can tell me. If there is something that you promised to yourself you must keep secret, you can count on me to keep it. I will always be here for you." His face was serene and deeply concerned. He took her hand in his, a line in his face deepened. " Your hands. . . They are as cold as. . ."

Emma withdrew her hands abruptly, a bit of realization and almost a bit of fury erupted within.

She sighed. "You're right. I do need to talk to someone, but I'm afraid to let it out. It's really secret, but I know I need to talk about it. I wish I made sense of things, I hope this is somewhat coherent. I wish I could tell you but it'd be impossible to explain."

" Could you try? Even if it doesn't make sense, attempt to put it in words. Or feelings even!"

At that moment, a man of stubborn air come over to their table, smiling down on the loving couple. " Are you ready to order?"

" Yes, Monsieur Garner. Let's start with simple, cold hors d'oeuvres and a bottle of Lillet. Then we would like to have a course of Pot-au-Feu, no marrow and the meat well done. And that will be all, thank you."

" Of course, it's your regular. Good evening Monsieur Arnette."

" So, you've been here quite often I take it."

" A few times, I get the same thing every time. . . Please, Emma I don't want to see you like this. It pains me. We have been going out on luncheons and breakfasts for months and each meeting you look as if someone may be following you. Every noise made in the city causes your eyes to shift with unease. Every meeting is as if in secret."

" You know I live with someone."

" But you said he wasn't your husband, or your brother, or father. He is only a friend, just a person you stay with right? If he causes you unease, why are you still with him."

" I couldn't just leave him, he would be alone in the world again. He's come so far from how he used to be. Tucker, you couldn't imagine what his life has been like. He loved a woman, his first, and she left him and told him that she didn't love him. Everyone in his life has shunned him, except me. . . well and Madame Gir-" Emma stopped in mid sentence and glanced at Tucker. He seemed to be looking at her to continue. " He has grown on me, and I think I might have some unknown feeling for him. Sometimes he paces his house in fits of rage, yelling curses and knocking over candelabra's. That's when I dislike him most. Sometimes I'm afraid he'll hurt me, but then there are those times of the opposite. . . When he smiles, or his skin brushes up against mine, I get this feeling of, well, electric goose bumps."

" But why do you feel this when he threatens to strike you. I don't know who could strike a beautiful women such as yourself."

" That's what I've been thinking about. I'm shut up in a basement for weeks at a time. A darkness that I can never escape except when he is reading with me or teaching me simple chords. And, to be honest, also when he lets me go. Today I had to sneak out from his house! I will have a word or two with him about that. But I miss the outdoors. I miss being able to walk the streets and go to parties. Just to watch the sun set would make me content for a whole month."

" What stops you? If you snuck out today, why couldn't you sneak out during the night when he sleeps."

" But that's the thing! He never sleeps! It's almost as if he's a zombie!" Emma suddenly gasped at her last comment. She cursed herself to think she was turning into Christine.

Before either of them could say another word, a waiter came around and delivered their entrees. Emma stared at the steaming bowl of soup in awe. For the last few months she has been eating bread and crackers along with long tough strips of jerky. Then there was the wine. Every day for every meal she would have to drink red wine or tea. It was a pleasure to have something new to eat.

Emma scooped up a spoonful of broth and vegetables and put it in her mouth. The taste was delightful and she wolfed it down in a matter of minutes. It was upon her nature to eat things fast when she was hungry. The wine was sweet and much more tasty than the red wine she was used to. Tucker looked up from his soup and stared at Emma with an inquired, devilish face.

" Emma dear, I have a proposal for you. Lets stay out all night. For heavens sake you haven't a clue the next time you'll be out again and you said if you watched the sun set it would contain you for a month. Let's do it! He'll never know."

Emma swallowed down her last spoonful of soup hard. " Well. . ." The girl thought about how Erik lately had been soaked up in his business affairs, his urge to compose and his darling Christine was coming to visit very soon. In fact, Emma was kicked out of her room from the time Christine arrives to the time she leaves. " All right. I don't see the harm in that. By the time we get out of here, it will be about five. We could sit by the Seine River for a while, then we could find a place to watch the sunset. Then I have to be home, he'll kill me if I'm not."

" Fine, agreed. But you must promise me that you have to relax from this horrid state. Though you are beautiful, you also seem sickly. This fresh air will be good from your grounded mind."

The two of them finished the meal with a baguette and a clang of their classes for a cheer. Then they left the restaurant to go sight seeing. Emma finally felt free from the restrained living she had gotten used to with Erik. Now she wondered if she had the will to return. The air was lively, fresh and there were people every where she looked. Once taking granted of this freedom, she now indulged in it. But did she think about the easy temper of the phantom? Did she know he would make prey out of her that night? She would soon, and it will not be a calm encounter, indeed it will provoke avenge.


	16. The kiss of Death

Chapter 16

The grandfather clock chimed three and the bells rang through out the empty lair. Erik paced in his music room, his mind unable to make itself up. For the first time he was worried about her, nervous that she would not return, that he would once again be pushed back into solitude. Just the thought of her made his heart race and his mind unable to think straight. The very wave of her hair and the curve of her cheek made every nerve in every limb to tense and tingle. So many thoughts, good and bad, were swirling around in his head.

' Where could she possibly be at this hour? The only time she is out this late is when she is with me. What if she decided to run away? Why did I have to act a fool? No, think logically. . . What if she's just out? That could be true. . . Maybe she decided to crawl into bed with the patron. . .? Or worse, what if she's in trouble? What if a drunk forced her-'

Erik stopped in his repeating tracks and finally made up his mind. He couldn't stand to think that Emma was being taken advantage of. He would find her, no doubt and kill whoever she was with! Even if she refused to go, he would take her with him. Emma was his, she came to him and no one else. Grabbing his cloak and his lasso, he walked out to his boat. " Emma!" Erik growled while wrapping his unbelievably thin fingers around the oar.  
X X X

" I think I found one!" Tucker beckoned to the gray shadow in front of the Seine river. It turned around and skipped over to him and cheered with glee.

" Perfect! I can at least get ten skips out of that one. See how it's completely flat and smooth." Emma skimmed the rock across the moonlit water, making the giant crescent ripple in flowing waves. " HA! Eleven. . . Beat that!"

" You must be joking, I can barely get one. Every time I throw the damn rock, it just sinks down with a splash."

" That's because you're throwing them wrong! You have to throw them like this!" Emma mimed the right way to skim a stone. As she threw the rock, a mysterious breeze picked up and rustled the leaves in the tree behind them.

" Emma!" An eerie voice whispered within the wind.

" Did you hear that?" She asked.

" Hear what?" Tucker stopped in mid throw and looked serenely over at the girl shivering in the brisk gust. His eyebrows furrowed in pity, his fingers released the rock. " It's him again isn't it? That horror you speak of!"  
Tuckers words were useless. Emma was straining so hard to hear anything around the wind that any other sense was cut off. " It must have just been the wind. Could you pass me the wine bottle?" Emma snatched the bottle away from the patron and chugged some of the bitter tasting alcohol down her throat. " Tucker, you know the man I talk about all the time."

" Mmm."

" Well, he's a troubled man and he is very infamous for his actions. . . Have you ever heard of the Phantom of the Opera?"

Another violent gust of wind streamed through around the river. The tree waved back and forth as it had come alive itself. Through the blowing wind, Emma distinctly heard the whisper once again.

" Come to me!"

Emma dropped the wine bottle to the ground, the glass shattered and its contents gushed around it. Her feet involuntarily walked towards the open road, away from the confused boy standing near the river. He shouted her name several times but she continued to walk absently toward the road. The magical voice caressed her ear and praised her for listening to it. It told her that she would be rewarded greatly if she kept on walking.

" Emma!" Tucker screamed. He shook her shoulders violently to wake her of her entrancement. " Emma please!"

" What. . . Where am I? Tucker? Where's. . ." Tucker looked deep within her dilating eyes, but found only confusion.

" He's here Emma. . . The phantom, we must get away from here! Didn't you hear anything, feel anything?"

" No, except a voice so heavenly and light. It told me I'm going to have the world in my palms if only I followed it. That voice was so pleasant."

" I saved your life! You told me you did not want to go back!"

" I did not! At least I don't think I did?" She thought of Erik, and all she has gone through with him. But, then the feeling of being trapped in the basement of an opera house put a big damper on her positive thinking. " No, I guess I-"

" Why Emma, fancy seeing you here! Especially so late at night."

X X X

" Erik? What are you doing here?" Emma backed away from the tree in which Erik stood so gracefully in. " I thought you would-"

" Just sit at home and wait for you. Did you not learn anything from living with me! And who is this? The patron. . ." The elusive phantom began to tsk the frightened boy. " What a scandal it would be at the opera if the poor patron drowned in the Seine river, with Emma being the only suspect. . . Surely they would think it to be a love affair, since you have your fiance expecting anytime this month. What would she think?" He jumped from the tree and landed in front of the two.

" You are a horrible man Monsieur Phantom, and you deserve to-"

" Burn in hell, die a thousand deaths and get a life!" Emma cut into Tuckers sentence. " What do you think I was doing, playing prostitute? Haven't you learned anything from me!"

" Only that you cannot be trusted with your actions. I thought we made a deal Emma! Ah, yes, you had forgotten your own promise didn't you! Well, your fun is quite over now and it is time to go home."

" I'm not ready to go home!" The ghost came closer to her. Tucker inched forward in a protective way.

" What, are you going to stop me?"

" I will do everything in my power to put you to your death!"

" Your powers a useless against me, you fool!" The phantom raged, crossing his arms over his puffing chest.

" This is the worst you have done yet Erik, and I still refuse to go home. I believe I should have freedom to come and go from your house whenever I'd like to."

" I will not be used for lodging. I chose to keep you in my house not out of pity but out of choice. And I can easily take that from you! If you refuse to go home I will force you to."

" Can't you see what you are doing to her? You are killing her, she used to be lively and filled with color and now look, she is as pale as the moon. You are doing the same thing with Emma as you did with Christine! And look what happened, she left you, just as Emma will!" Tucker curled each finger into a ball of fury.

" Tucker!" Emma squealed, fear tumbling in her stomach. Her eyes switched from Tucker to Erik, watching their anger build up drastically.

" You're quite the brave one! You are just begging me to kill you aren't you! Well Monsieur, tonight is your lucky night!"

Just then Tucker lunged a fist through the air straight at Erik's face. In one quick movement, the Phantom had the boy by the neck. Erik lifted the boy into the air and pulled him close to his mask. Tucker gasped frantically for breath, his arms and feet flailing in the air.

" You can't hurt me! I am death itself!" At that moment, Erik ripped his mask off to reveal his dead, curling skin. The boy in front of him locked his eyes to the monsters face, unable to tear them away.

Finally coming to his senses, Tucker thrust his foot into the Phantoms ribs until he was forced to let go. He hit the ground with a loud thud, quickly backing away into the tree. Emma stood their frozen with fear, unable to speak or move. What could she do in this situation? Caught between two friendships, she was undecidedly stuck in the middle. Seeing the Punjab lasso being brought out, Emma decided she didn't want to see murder tonight. Saying a silent pray before moving, she ran to the men standing there. Now in full sprint she tried to tackle the phantom to the ground. Instead of sending him down, she unsuccessfully knocked into his side causing him to stop what he was doing.

" Don't do it Erik. He's not worth the trouble. I will go home with you , but if you kill him I will run away and never come back!"

" Either way your coming home with me! I cannot be shoved into solitude just because you can't have a crush! You know too much to be let free! It's either I kill you or take you down to hell with me." He paused a moment and pushed Emma off of him. She tripped and hit her head against the ground.

She whimpered moans of pain and fell unconscious. Erik stopped his harassment to think about what he was doing. He forgot about the woozy patron and walked up to Emma. Her body was limp, but her face was still so beautiful. He picked her up and walked to the open road where, behind a building, Caesar awaited patiently masticating on some extra hay. Mounting Emma in front of him, they rode back to the opera house.

Getting into the boat, Erik decided to go rather slowly, not rushing home as he usually did when in a mood as this. Emma lay passed out beneath him, laying in between the benches. Over and over, his thoughts were cursing him for his ridiculous behavior. Thinking it through thoroughly, he finally convinced himself it was out of jealous rage. The last time he did this irrational act was when Christine was with him. On that note, he remembered Christine was coming in a few days, and that was going to be interesting to see the two interact.

The girl beneath him stirred him out of his thoughts. Erik prayed she wouldn't wake up but they were useless when her beautiful auburn eyes fluttered open. The shadow above her tensed and braced for an argument.

" Erik? Where am I?" She pushed herself up, making the boat shake rather violently. " Well, that explains it."

" Emma, I want to. . . I want to apologize for this. I know I acted stupid and out of jealousy. You must think me a horrible person for creating such a public scene. I risked both our lives in doing it. You must understand that you cannot go around claiming you know The Phantom of the Opera. It is too dangerous."

" I just wanted to feel the air on my own. Tucker just wanted- Tucker! What did you do to him? Is he dead? Tell me he isn't dead!"

The phantom's eyes glinted childishly in the darkness. " From all that wine Monsieur Patron inhaled, he could be dead for days!" 

" Erik, I don't want sarcasm or any jokes, just tell me where Tucker is?"

" If you honestly must know, he is unconscious on a bench by the Seine river. He seemed to really enjoy that wine bottom, drank himself to sleep."

" Oh so now it's a joke? Erik don't you understand that you could have killed him! He could be on the bottom of the river right now with me being the prime suspect. It would be your fault for his death!"

" Yes! It would be my fault and I would have done it on my own accord, without guilt or shame! I thought you knew me; studied me in that bloody book of yours. I killed out of hate and sometimes for no reason! I don't feel anything when I kill, it is only an impulse. If I permitted, I could kill anyone I felt needed it!"

" All right, if your so proud of this, kill me! Go ahead, I know you could snap my neck with one hand if you felt like it. So do it, get rid of me." Emma moved a hair closer to the ghost, his eyes reflecting every emotion that was coursing through his heart and mind. " What are you waiting for? DO IT!"  
In that moment, Erik grabbed Emma's face in between both of his hands and pushed her head to his. Their lips collided together, entwining into each crevice and molded to each curve. There bodies slowly came together and when they met it was like a blast of passion. When Erik was about to pull away, Emma moved with his face, her built up emotions not ready to let go. Her hands moved from her sides to curl around his neck, her fingers stroking the hairs on the back of his head. They both stood there, their lips still intact to one another. Emma released the kiss after feeling liquid slide down her cheek, cold and heavy. She had to check a moment and after clearing it up, she found it was Erik's tears that were gliding down her face. Her thumb wiped away every tear that tried to fall from his face. Feeling an awkward moment coming Emma backed up slowly.

" Emma, please forgive me, I didn't-" Erik forced out through trembling lips.

Emma smiled at him and gave him a slight shake. " You're going to pay for that, monsieur!"

The Phantom attempted to recollect his composure.

" Do not tempt me to use my allurements!"

" Screw you're allurements!"

" What?"

Emma forced her foot into the back of Erik's knee, making him loose his balance for only a split second. Then she pushed him backwards, and into the water.

" See you next fall! I saw it from a movie once." Emma wiped off the excess water droplets on her shirt and stood there with her arms crossed, waiting for Erik to climb out of the water. After a minute went by, Emma started to feel the apprehension well up in the pit of her stomach. ' Erik is amazing, but not that amazing.' After another thirty seconds, the girl couldn't help but lean over the boat to look down into the endless sea of black pearls. She called for him again and again until she sounded desperate. ' What have I done? How stupid could I have been! I just killed the Phantom of the Opera. . . The man I have possible feelings for. . .Shit!'

Just when she was about to step back from the waters edge, two massive hands came up and pulled her into the lake with awesome force. For a second she was held under against her will, and her every sense was telling her to panic. But she heard a sweet voice telling her to stay down. Falling for the heavenly voice, she relaxed in the darkness, feeling the cool lake water run through every strand of her charcoal hair. Finally realizing the agonizing pain in her lungs, she forced herself up to the surface, staring right into the eyes of the phantom.

" I thought you would never come up! Did you enjoy your swim?"

" You asshole! You could have killed me. . . !"

" Yes, I could have. Now get out of that water before you catch cold. Silly fool wanting to take a swim in the middle of winter."

" But you were the one who pulled me in!" Emma argued, trying desperately to keep herself afloat.

" You have no solid proof of that. Here, I'll help you up." Erik's arms seductively lowered toward Emma in the water. She grabbed both hands and tried to jump out of the water. When she was back in the boat, her body was attacked by the shivers and every limb trembled.

" How come y-you're not c-cold?" She whined.

" I wasn't the one who fell into the water."

" That's c-crazy, I c-clearly pushed y-you in!"

" Poor child, you're shivering. Here take my cloak." Erik wrapped the completely dry cloak around Emma's pale neck and tied the strings loosely against her skin. His hand barely even grazed her neck, but she could feel the intensity of his power against it.

" What? How d-did y-you do that? I kn-know I saw you fall in, w-what about your pants? They're d-dry too? Tell how you did that." Emma commanded, her teeth chattering quite loudly.

" It's an old magicians trick, and as a practiced magician I am forbidden to tell my secrets."

" Bullshit. T-tell me, I want to kn-know! I w-want to know everything y-you know. . ."

" My dear, your small brain would not be able to contain everything I know. When we return I shall put on a kettle of tea and teach you the magic of Ventriloquism. It's quite fun and actually amusing to frighten people with it. Soon you will be able to make a candle talk to someone."

" All right. Oh! C-could you teach some easy m-magic tricks or allusions. Those are my favorite. A phantom teaching me how to be a magician! Cool!"

" Ah, more of your strange dialect."

" So do I still have to sleep in the livingroom when Christine arrives?"

" Yes, but I will make it suitable for you, your own fortress."

" Can we go now? I'm freezing my ass off." Emma pleaded as she wrapped the cloak closer to her body. Her nostrils caught the pine smell of Erik's musk. How calming it was.

The phantom picked the oar back up and returned to paddling back to the dock. Her round, luscious lips were still on his mind, yet he couldn't help but think about Christine. He could feel the tension between the two already, for her visit was quickly approaching.


	17. Inside Emma's Head

Chapter 17

Inside Emma's head.

She had arrived. It was about nine at night when the siren went off. It scared me half to death while drinking my tea, damn cup just flew out of my hands. Erik guided her in from the cold dock and into the front door. I could see only her silhouette. To be honest, I was preparing myself for her visit for quite some time. I knew my competition would be strong and I would have to hold back my tongue from slashing curses at her.

And so, she walked in and my heart stopped in its place. Indeed she was beautiful, beyond anything I had ever seen in my life. Her hair was long, almost as long as mine. It was gold, a cross between brown and blonde, and it was curly. Perfect spirals cascaded down her small, slender body like an angel with a perfect incandescent halo. I wanted to cut off her hair and bruise every inch of her body. If there was any chance of Erik noticing me this week, it would be wasted on crude remarks and negligence. The look in his eyes pained my heart for it was pure love and admiration. Her hazel eyes mirrored his and her smile was from ear to ear. She looked at me quizzically, and I assumed Erik hadn't told her about me. True we weren't dating, but I felt out of place. She gave a shy smile in my direction and it took every muscle in my face to do the same. For the first time he realized I was still in the room.

" Christine, this is my good friend Emma. She has been staying here with me for a long time now. Maybe you two could become friends while you stay here."

A good friend. . . That's what I was to him, just a good friend! Even after he kissed me a week back on that damn boat of his. Come to think of it, I must have acted like a complete idiot. He tried to smile at me, but I could tell what he was thinking. Things were going to be different.

" Very nice to meet you Emma. I guess I will be sharing a room with you then." She turned to face her "master". " I am sorry to disturb you, but Raoul is on a business trip with his co-workers and I really wish not to be alone in that house. I cannot stand being by myself for such a long time. Ever since. . ." She trailed off, silently cursing for her careless slip.

" How long will he be gone?" I impertinently asked, though quickly regretted my outburst.

" He will be gone for about a week. I protested against it but he persisted it was necessary for him to visit other opera houses, now since he refuses to do business with this. . .management."

"No need to explain yourself. You are welcome here whenever the occasion arises. Now lets get you settled in. Emma could you help Christine?"

Great, thanks for choosing me to chauffeur the princess around. I'm sure we'll get along just great.

" It would be my pleasure Erik. Right this way Christine." Just to say the name makes me clench my fists.

She was silent the short distance down to the room which I had grown fond of. I couldn't believe she actually gasped when we entered the room. I doubt it had changed, and from the instructions of Erik, I made sure it was spotless before she came. She stood there in her rose satin dress, and her perfectly shaped fingers wrung around in big circles. Most definitely she was remembering her "ordeal" a few years back. The silence grew dense, heavy between us like sworn enemies. I felt it was going to be my job to be the mature one and break the ice.

" Is there anything I can do for you at the moment, Christine?" The young girl before me stood so still I thought she was in a trance of some sort. " Christine. . .Um, hello?"

" Oh, no thank you. I should be able to find things on my own. Do you mind if I have some time by myself down here?"

" Sure. Just call me if you need anything."

" You are too kind. Could you tell him I will be taking a nap? My journey was extensive and I am worn out."

" I will be obliged to tell him anything you wish." I forced back the chuckle at my obvious change of dialect.

I left her there to do what she wished. I actually felt some pity for her the moment when her eyes met mine. They were filled with such anguish and torment that I was about to say something. Then again just a few minutes ago I wanted to gag on my forced kindness. When I returned to the gallery, Erik was sitting in his chair, looking down the stairwell, anticipating his little princess. His eyes hid little to the world and I learned to read them. He was clearly upset that Christine wasn't by my side.

" She has decided to rest, her trip was probably tiresome. I will be in my room until she returns. I'm positive you will find something to occupy yourself with. Call me if I am needed." Before I could even answer, he was in his room with a click of the lock.

' Call me if I'm needed.' That's the nice way of saying do not disturb me unless Christine is in peril.

But like he said, I did find something to amuse me. Walking into his music room, I took a seat at the piano. I played the only little tone that would be considered classical. My fingers delicately punched out the song 'Canon' by Pachelbel. Drifting away into the music, my whole body relaxed and my mind was replenished. I stayed this was until I was rudely interrupted. A faint shove on my shoulder rocked me of my daze and when I looked up I saw the angelic face. Her eyes were blank and her facial expression was frightening. If I wasn't mistaken, I would have thought she was sleep walking.

" Angel of Music? Is that you?" Her voice was ghostly empty and it sent shivers down my spine.

" Well, no you're sleeping Christine."

" No, Raoul! This isn't a dream, I know it is real. I have seen him. He's a breathing human man." I seriously thought of waking her, but I was curious to see what else she had to say.

" Who is this Angel of Music?"

" He is anything but an angel. Oh Raoul, I hope you never have to lay eyes on him, his face. . . But his voice is so beautiful, so beautiful, so beautiful. . ." She repeated those two words until it descended into silence.

" How about I take you back to my room. That way you could get back to sleep and I can continue to do what I was doing."

" But he is too strict. He will know what is going on and he will kill you." Tear's formed in her innocent eyes and they streamed down her high cheek bones. " He promised me that."

I took her by the shoulders and shook her slightly, attempting to get her out of her nightmare. I hated her with a passion, but I wasn't heartless.

" Stop that. It is dangerous for a sleepwalker to be woken up." Erik came closer to us, the look on his face murderous, but lined with fresh tears. " I will take her back down, and when I return we need to have a little chat."

I could only reply with a timid okay. I realized he was probably catching on to the game I was trying to play with her. God, I hope he has the patience to deal with me, and I hope he has some control left in him. I stood up from the chair my body molded to, picked up our tray with the tea cups on it and disappeared into the kitchen. The tray clanged against the marble counter as I laid them down. Pacing the kitchen back and forth, I waited for Erik to return. My ears didn't even catch his footsteps and before I could prepare myself, he was standing near the stove.

His sigh gave away his obvious agitation. As quickly as I could, my mind tried to form an argument to his up coming questions.

" If I am not mistaken, I sense some jealousy. Is that true?" His long, graceful arms crossed over on another.

" What do I have to be jealous about?" I lied right through my teeth. Hopefully the phantom didn't pick it up.

" Do not play dumb with my Emmaline." -Shit!- " She hasn't done a thing to you. But you seem it fitting to give her the cold shoulder."

What was I to say to that? What would any phic girl do?

"She doesn't deserve you, Erik! Remember, she wanted to leave, she is uncomfortable here. And I can't help but think you will return to your old ways."

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. He took a step closer to me, his eyes glaring straight at me. " You think I still love her don't you? You think I would be stupid enough to invite her to this complex if I still loved her? Not to mention the tiny, but important detail, that she is now married to the Comte. No, it is you who is jealous and you better stop this charade, or you will be a homeless little street rat." His spat at me and left.

I hated her more now than I ever did. The livingroom was my new bedroom now, a pillow and a throw blanket included. I felt like a five year old child being punished for something bad, but my punishment was merely being born Emma and not Christine. My whole being was completely different from the princess. She could sing, act and she had a picture perfect body. How was I going to compete with that?

Depression ate at my mind, wasting away and joy I had left. I craved the calming effects of alcohol, so I searched through the kitchen until I came upon an old bottle of brandy. I didn't even use a glass, which after about eight full gulps, I was beginning to regret it. But the sticky, sweet alcohol burned my throat and satisfied my strong need for the drink. I sat there half the night, drinking the damn bottle sick. My stomach threatened me mercilessly to vomit, and I stood up to go to the bathroom. Some kind of pain shot through my spine and my mind went completely black. The very last thing I remembered was the metallic taste of blood.  
The same dream I've had since I was 15 reoccurred in my sleep. A dream which I dread not to see ever again. So much pain to suffer in sleep is far too much my soul can handle. It always starts out with us three getting into the car. Then ending just before the car crashes off the road. My Dad was flung through the windshield and my Mom was pinned against the door. I was the only one that had survived, but sometimes I wonder if I should have lived. My aunt and uncle weren't very accepting of their responsibility to take care of me and I gave them hell for it. They deserved every tantrum that were screamed at them, every word of threats and insults. I never apologized for what I said and I probably never will.

I felt a sense of warmth on my arm, then heard mumbled words. After a few minutes of trying to clear my eyes, the princess came into my blurry sight. Her face was filled with concern and caring and her hair tickled my arm as her head bent down to look at my face closer. She smiled when I looked at her, but all I could do was moan. Erik walked over to me and traced his cold fingertips around my forehead. It soothed my aching headache from the alcohol. For the first time in months I actually noticed his white mask. The hangover magnified every curve and hole in its porcelain frame.

" What have you done?" Erik asked in a mildly concerned voice.

" Poor dear, what do you think happened? Do you think she tripped?"

" Very likely, but by the smell of her breath, I believe she passed out from drinking. I have a feeling she will be in a lot of pain for the next day or so." He picked up an empty bottle of brandy and stalked into the kitchen.

I finally summoned up enough energy to lift myself off the ground. Almost instantly a deep burning feeling in my throat come up and I had to run to the bathroom. I made it to the pot just in time to disgorge my brains out. Each retch was more painful than the next. Erik and Christine were both next to me, Erik holding my hair back away from my face and the princess rubbing my back for support. Finally a break came where there was peace in my stomach and throat. The phantom sighed behind me and Christine gave me her sympathy.

" I hope you learn your lesson from this Emma. You cannot drink half a bottle of liquor and get away with it. I'm sure you will be here for a while."

" And we will be here to support you, right Erik. . ."

I felt the tension of Erik's hidden irritation as if it were my own.

" Who would want to sit and watch me throw up into a hole?"

" Well, don't you want us to stay with you?" The young girl asked, giving me a slight pat on the back.

" Considering the circumstances I've really had enough embarrassment one can usually take. But I appreciate your concern."

Erik tugged at Christine's shirt sleeve and they both exited the bathroom. I was left to wallow in my own embarrassment and not to mention my own vomit. What the hell was I thinking attempting to drink a bottle of brandy? I was blind in my own jealousy. If I was going to win this match I had to play with logic, not impulse. It was me who brought Erik out of the dark and she is the one who is going to drag him back into it. All this work of compliments and patience will be flushed down the tube.

For some reason a memory came to my head. A memory of home, my room, Frisky our German Shepard laying in front of the fire place and my mother and father sitting in the fireplace chairs reading their books. I could smell my Mothers perfume and my fathers cigar. I hated those things, so much that I once burned his pack, and got a hefty spanking for it too. Being in the 19th century for six months has really showed me how lonely life can be. Of course, I am living with the Phantom, but things aren't going as I had planned. Our friendship is like a teeter totter, depending on ourselves, it could go up or down.

Something else came to mind, a quick glimpse of a visual I never hope to see. Christine dressed in a beautiful pink dress standing in front of the elegantly adorn Erik, and in a split second they were kissing. A kiss that is so powerful, has such a meaning of love in this century but back home, it is so bland, so full of nothing that it might as well not be called a kiss at all.

My throat opened up to let out another splurge of vomit. It hurt so bad now that I decided it was best not to talk or breathe. After a few more my body was worn out to the point of exhaustion. My head started to sway back and forth and before I knew it, it went blank. I dreamt of Erik, just him walking in the dark and I felt happy about it. I could feel his body and smell his scent so clearly that it seemed real yet it was so hazy and distant that it was obvious I was dreaming. A part of me wished it were real, and the other part knew it wasn't.

A rush of cool wetness swept across my forehead, and for the first time comfort. My eyelids were heavy and almost unbearable to open. The room was dark, the walls were bare and the shadow above me was tall. When I stirred, it flinched back, and stood up to its full height. First the sense of being submerged in deep sleep came to me, my body rested and stiff. The other sense was of confusion. This didn't look like the bathroom I had been throwing up in, nor did it feel like Christine's room. After thinking about it for a minute or so, I pried my eyes open. It was a room I had never seen before, a room of complete darkness. I sat up slowly, hearing the bones in my back crack under the stiffness. Was I in hell?

" Ah, you are awake. I was beginning to think it was hopeless. Oh, no don't get up, you'll get light headed. The medicine I gave you on Friday is meant to help you sleep better. How are you feeling?"

" Like shit! Why did I need medicine? It was just a hangover." I slurred out, throwing the covers off my feet. My eyes traveled around the dark empty space for anything tangible. " Where the hell am I?"

" It was more complicated then just a hangover. You were poisoned by drinking more alcohol than what your body can take. So instead of vomiting every minute, I decided it would be better if you slept the sickness away. Here, drink this, it will make you feel better." The sound of cloth moving whispered out into the dark room. I chugged the medicine down. My throat gagged on the thick, bitter tasting liquid.

" So where are we?" I repeated my question more loud and clear.

" I put you in my room so Christine could use the livingroom, and for you to get the most rest as possible."

" Could you light a candle so I could see?" I asked, clenching my fingers around the bedpost.

" I would rather you not see my room, it will disturb you."

" Like everything else you've shown me. . .?"

The silence grew thick and I sensed that my mouth had run away with me again. Quickly, before he could think about it any long, I spoke up.

" I didn't mean it like that. I really like it down here."

" I guess I could light a candle, but you really should rest, your body needs it. Now I have to make sure to lock those liquors away. Unless I want prying hands to find them again."

Erik's footsteps echoed in the empty room. A moment later, the room was flooded with a soft yellowish white glow. Erik's face looked incandescent in the small candlelight. His face looked more sunken in and pallid then before. I must have gasped for Erik lowered his head. The candle floated through the room, until it illuminated an enormous organ, it's brass pipes exceeding up the black walls. Next to the candle laid a white porcelain mask, glowing from the awkward candlelight. Erik frantically placed the mask on his right side, then sat down onto the bench placed in front of the organ.

" Please forgive my forgetfulness, Emma." He whispered, my ears barely catching on to what he had said.

" What do you mean?"

" I had forgotten to put back on my mask, I am very sorry you had to see it."

" Erik, I didn't even see anything, there is no reason to be sorry." I heard a heavy sigh rush out of his mouth, and saw his fingers slick his dark hair back, but only resulting in having it fall back into his face. God, did he look ever so nice with his hair like that. If only I could get my fingers entwined in it.

" It is true, what you said. I thought I could handle this, but I cannot. I thought I was sure of things, that everything would be different. But I was wrong."

" What are you talking about Erik?" I pleaded, jumping off the bed, feeling naked in the underclothing I had on.

" Christine, I still love her." The words hung low in my head, a piercing pain traveled across my chest. " But, every time I come close to her, she steps back as if I threatened her. She has spent all her time in that bedroom, staring at the wall, or staring into the fireplace. She should not have come here, I should have realized this would have happened. I have scarred her for life, her mind was so young and susceptible. I. . . she. . ." His whole composure melted before me, and all I could do was stare at this weeping man.

" Erik, what you do was some-what reasonable." His glowing eyes looked at me curiously. I felt my heart clench once more in my chest. " Well. . . in my eyes. Don't worry, you'll be fine my dear, do you want me to bring you some brandy?" He shook his head. "Wine?" Again. Opium?"

" How did you know that I had opium?" Erik asked, glancing at me accusingly.

" I found it one day under your piano bench. . . I put it back, if you must go check."

He sat back down and looked at the rows of keys. Looking away from me, he began to play an innocent melody.

I took the candle from it's resting place on the organ and walked slowly over to the door. Prying it open, I found the gallery dark and empty. She must be sleeping, the witch. Has she no soul at all? Has she no conscience of any kind? I'll show her what she has done, she will soon understand the wraith of Emmaline Cerise La Salle up close and personal. A plan slowly began to develop in my head and my mood quickly changed to excitement.

X X X

Her perfectly shaped eyes fluttered open when she finally realized my presence. I did give her props for being beautiful but the young girl was foolish. Her brows furrowed into confusion when she saw my shadow sitting in the fireside chair. She made to move but stopped abruptly after the bonds began to cut into her wrists. Her body frantically writhed and wiggled under the rumpled sheets. I calmly walked over to her bedside, cupped my hand over her mouth and entwined a hefty amount of curls between my fingers. The shrieks that issued under my hand were more satisfying than I thought. My finger touched to my lips to enforce her to silence them and went back to harshly grip her locks.

" I'll let go when you agree to cooperate." Her head wagged up and down in response. " What a good little minx you are. Lets get straight to the point, shall we? You are a selfish little bitch who doesn't think of anyone but yourself. Now that I have pointed out the obvious, I think it's time we ask the questions. I ask and you answer or else your beautiful locks will be sheered! If you even think to scream, that picture of your father will smolder in flames, understand?" Once again her head wagged under my compression. I let go of her hair and lifted my hand off her mouth.

" What are your intentions of me?" She asked in a quavering voice.

" To seek the truth." I loved playing the villian.

" What truth?"

" The truth about you and the shadow who loves you. Which leads me to my first question, what are your intentions of the ghost?"

" What do you mean?"

" You came here for a reason, what was it?" I hissed, trying desperately to control my voice, let alone my anger.

" I wanted to see him again. I wanted to make sure he was ok."

". . .Wrong!" I grabbed the heap of hair and pulled it sharply, she gasped in alarm and surprise. " What is the true meaning of this visit?"

Her eyes wandered away from me and stared into the flames. After moments of silence, heavy tears welled up in her eyes. " I thought maybe if I saw him again. . . maybe my thoughts would be different. But every time he came near me, I remembered how Raoul and the Persian looked in the torture chamber, how he told me they were dying. Someone cannot let that go so easily." Christine let out a heave of built up emotion, unable to keep it locked away.

" Why not? Has he ever tried to hurt you, harm any hair on your pristine head? I live here, not out of spite but because Erik allowed me. It would've been so easy to kick me out to the curb, but he felt bad for me. If I am correct, that's compassion and compassion is a human trait. If he can show a human trait, that must mean he can feel human emotions, right?"

" Has that anything to do with him?"

" You treat him like an animal! He isn't a beast Christine. He is a man that would die for you!"

" I know that! But what right does he have to kidnap me, to lure me by saying he was my angel of music. He put me through psychological pain, so much that Raoul was almost forced to rid me to an asylum. You don't understand."

" How stupid can you get! Every day of my life, I wished I could be you! To have the master of music be in love with me. Instead I am the person who comforts and encourages him. He doesn't love me even half as much as he loves you."

" But have you seen his face?"

The thought had only just occurred to me that I was fighting a battle without truly being fair. Erik's mask had blended into his skin and became invisible. After a few second thoughts, I finally voiced the truth.

" No, I haven't. But that-"

" You little wench! You have been slashing me with your bitter tongue but haven't even ventured into my shoes! He has no face, it is only muscle and bone! It is so grotesque that any doctor would vomit at the sight of it." It sickened me to see her face contorted into tight disgust.

" Do you hear what you're saying? You're the devil's daughter herself. That is how the angel upstairs almost died! From your fowl mouth! I love Erik, and if I ever see his face I will kiss it all over without hesitation. . . it would be the least I could do for his hospitality. He is an amazing person and I can't keep trying to comfort his growing despair."

. . .I think you should leave him, never come back. You are killing him, every time you look away, or shutter when he comes near, that is another second where his life is chipped away. For God's sake you can't even bare to look at him!"

" But his voice has such power that I am almost addicted to hear it! When he sings, all of my feelings vanish and my soul is renewed!"

" Yea, yea but you don't see the big picture!"

" I don't wish to leave here. I like to stay down here sometimes, away from people's questions. To be in his atmosphere, to be able to breathe his energy."

"If you continue to stay here, these intrusions will continue to grow, and each night will become more menacing than before. You will be forced to stay up night after night in fear of what I would do next. Unless. . ."

" Unless what?" I involuntarily chuckled at her desperation.

" Unless you leave without even a hint of a goodbye. You can just simply vanish and return back to your own humble abode. I'm sure your " husband" will be looking for you."

Christine sat there and pondered my threats and suggestions. " Will I have time to think this over?"

" Typical of you Christine! You think there is all the time in the world for only you. But I see what you mean. I will let you think about it. . . Tomorrow night I will come down here carrying a box, in one a scorpion and the other a grasshopper. If you pick the scorpion you have decided to stay, if you pick the grasshopper, you have decided to leave. Understood?" She looked at me in disgust, the obvious revelation of similarity between Erik and I disturbed her to the core. But after a moments thought she shook her head in agreement. " Good, I will see you tomorrow night then."

I got up from the chair and walked to the door. I laughed as I saw her fiddling with the rope on her wrists. She looked at me with frightened worry. " Aren't you going to take these off?"

" No, I think it would be good for you to stay up all night to think about it. . . See you in the morning!"

" Emma!"


	18. Crack of Thunder

Chapter 18

Christine woke with only one thing on her mind. She was truly undecided and felt utterly distressed. It was a hard choice to choose between peace and quite over Emma's daunting threats. Would it be possible to live for a bit longer down here? Or would her unforsaken angel loom over her presence and engulf the very air she breathed. What if Raoul was sending men down here right this minute, what if he has come up with a plot to kill Erik and even kill Emma? The girl was right, she should leave but perhaps she should go when Erik is sleeping. Her head cocked to the side to view the newly placed clock on the fireplace mantel. It was quarter to four, in the morning or afternoon, one will never know down in the belly of the Opera house.

As stealthy as she could, she put her things into her bag, grabbed the untouched picture of her father, stopping to snuggle it, and pressed on to the door. Her feet made rhythmic thumping noises as she trudged up the cobble stairs. The fireplace was smoldering with embers as it always was, but the room was relatively empty. Placing the box containing the grasshopper on top of the coffee table, she stopped to hear anything stir. Relieved, she went as fast as she could to the door and lowered her bag onto the ground. Just as her hand hit the door handle, she was startled by a golden voice, beckoning to her.

" It is too late for young woman to wonder the streets of Paris. Where are you off to in such a damn hurry?" A shadow growled from the chair. Christine squinted into the darkness. She jumped at the feeling of something touching her hair. " May I take an educated guess? If I could be so correct as to say you are going on a midnight visit to your hubby, which I do not even bother to ask if it is correct." The ghost stated arrogantly as it hovered around the room, picking up objects aimlessly.

" I think I have caused enough trouble as it is. My stay here has been a lonely one and I miss t-"

" My dear, you cannot blame anyone but yourself for that reason. I barely got a second glance, surprisingly. Or do you dare not look into the face of death! Have you not seen my face enough to understand it will never change, Christine! It is still a deaths head that loves you!"

Christine's eyes welled with tears as she stared at the furious man before her. The fingers that were wrapped around the handle for support dropped down to the side of her dress. " Erik, I have always treated you like-"

" A monster! Every time I come near you, you shrink away into a corner or blurt out an excuse to leave! Do I have to apologize every time you come into the room."

" . . .Oh Erik." Very unexpectedly Christine ran from the spot where she was just planted on before and hugged the man. His every muscle and limb went numb, his loins went stiff and his mind went crazy. He felt the very curve of her chest along side his bare stomach. Her head rested just below his chin and her fingers curled around his scars.

A third party came out of the shadows just in time to catch the heart wrenching view of the two hugging. Emma dropped the glass she was holding and barely processed that it shattered at contact. She could hear the anger build up until the throbbing in ears was unbearable. Blind with rage she stomped up to Christine and slapped her across her face, making the girl scatter to the floor. Emma raised her hand to hit her again, but a very strong force stopped her. Erik's hand clenched at her wrist until she whimpered in pain. The anger never left and with her left hand stripped away the porcelain mask which, since this moment, hid away from the world the true monster. He screamed incoherent words into the eccentric atmosphere. Immediately releasing Emma's hand, Erik's fingers curled around his face until nothing was visible. Christine gasped and backed away from him, like a frightened child in the dark. Quickly she picked up her bag and ran out of the lair door.

" No, don't go!"

Emma collapsed onto the cobble, in a storm of tears and vented rage. Finally realizing what she had done, she began to weep into her own hands that had caused this chaos. After a moment of tears, she was jerked ruthlessly onto her feet and looked straight into the face him; pure muscle and skin discoloring. She could see the tissue move each time he breathed, and the side of his nose cavity cave in and out, the hole in his cheek and up along his head, sickening for the weak stomached. She gasped involuntarily at the screwed up face in front of her and for a moment almost thought about fighting the hold. His fingers entwined into her curls dragging her down into the dungeon she called her room. With unknown force, Emma wiggled out of his grasp and ran back up to the main gallery and stumbled to the floor. What was she going to do?

" You just couldn't contain your jealousy! Can you not fathom how close you were to death, to meet him first hand with my own! You will never be able to look at me the same because you cannot bare the thought of the true man under the mask. This is not just another layer you can pull off, this is MY FACE!!!" And with that Erik grabbed the girls hair once more and pulled her towards him. Both his powerful hands grasped her jaw and shoved it to stare at the hideous deformity. Emma tried desperately to get out of his grip, trying to get away from the pain shooting up her jaw and wrist.

" You are a fool!! One of it's kind, blind to everything around you. Christine doesn't deserve you, she is trash, a whore that two timed you with Raoul. She can't handle your genius or your mental stability. But that doesn't seem to sink into your thick skull! She is a bitch and she won't be coming back! Face the facts, she doesn't know how to love a living skeleton!" Emma spit out like venom from a snake. Erik's face contorted into utter rage.

Without any warning Erik let go of her, swung back and contacted his hand to her right cheek, with a deafening 'smack'. Emma sprawled to the ground much like Christine did, her head buzzing and her cheek burning with pain. But unlike Christine, fear didn't creep into her mind, only vengeance. She pushed herself off the ground and flung herself on Erik. Her fist met with his face and he actually stammered backwards.

" How dare you! I didn't think you could get any immature! But I guess I was wrong. I don't need you to kick my ass out! I'll save you the heartbreak!" In a fit of tears, Emma stormed out of the lair, with the unmasked man left to watch her go.

Emma grabbed Caesar's reins and lead him to the Rue Scribe exit. The streets were being pelted by heavy, unending rainfall. She made a last glance towards the lake, wiping away the last tear that slid down her bruised face and walked out the gate. Caesar neighed in the flogging rain as they rode hard into the city. She didn't know where she was going only away from the man she cared for. Despair ripped at her aching heart making things around her even more unclear than they were.

' Why did I have to be so dumb! I knew taking his mask off is the worst sin that could ever be done and yet I didn't hesitate. I care for him so much yet I never really thought that I loved him, enough to get jealous and hit a person. Maybe he never cared for me, maybe he was just tired of living by himself. Or maybe he just wanted to look good for his precious star! He didn't care an ounce for me, only felt sorry for me so he kept me in his domain until Christine came to stay. He was just going to kick me out after they married anyways! I hope he rots in hell!'

And with that last thought Emma kicked the horse into high gear. The rain began to pelt even harder now, the wind blowing fiercely as if trying to slow them down. The struggling creature underneath her came to a steady trot, unable to see or move as quickly with the rain hitting in it's face. Emma angrily kicked at the horses sides, cursing its disobedience. This was going to take awhile. She made the horse stop at the only lit street lamp and paused to look at where she was. They were in an abandoned part of the city, a gate of some sort in front of them. On top of a hill lay quietly a mansion, silently watching the storm. Next to the lamppost was an empty, sodden wooden bench that sat helplessly in the downpour.

A yellow bolt of lightening lit the sky above them as the crashing thunder shook the ground. The horse beneath Emma stirred and spooked beyond any control. Caesar stood on its two hind legs and flipped Emma off the saddle. Her head hit the arm of the bench and knocked her out cold. She lay there alone, and wet in a deserted town, without anyone there to help her. A puddle of diluted blood began to surround her unconscious head.

A man of power and unconditional love picked up the girl and wiped away the hair from her face. The color was quickly draining from her body, signaling the sign of rapid blood lose. He carried the girl to the coach and nestled her comfortably onto the seat, a wool blanket ready to warm her. They drove off into the night, the rain letting up and the moon shining out onto the empty city.

_X X X_

_Say you'll share with me one love one lifetime, say the words and I will follow you. Say you'll want me with you here, beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too. Emma, that's all I ask of you! _

Emma opened her eyes lazily to a thumping beat in her head. The back of her skull felt as if someone beat her brains out. A few minutes of laying in complete darkness, she decided it was time to find out where she was. But when her brain told her arm to move, it didn't respond, in fact nothing responded. Fear engulfed her and a scream formed in her throat, but didn't come out. The only explanation is death, if she couldn't not see, move her limbs, or scream.

Death did not come to her but a sudden surge of life did. The pain was mostly gone from her limbs and head, except for the usual thumping. Her eyes opened up to see her old room, the fire exploding it into a golden heavy. Everything from the latest events rushed into her brain, and the horror of Erik's anger formed tears into her swollen eyes. Emma threw off the heavy wool covers from her body, and spilled from the bed and onto the floor. She grabbed a fist full of sheets and pulled herself to a standing position. Her legs threatened to buckle under the weight of her body, but kept it's hold to the ground. She grabbed the red silk rob off her trunk and opened the door to the dark corridor ahead.

Erik sat in the gallery, small candles lit around in various places, reading a book. Emma emerged from the steps and gasped quietly to herself. The man sitting on the couch was in fact the ghost, but with the exotic light, his facial features illuminated into unknown beauty. The girl subconsciously smoothed her fingers over her hair, and licked her dried, crumbled lips.

Sensing someone watching him, Erik looked up from the page he had been reading over and over again. The book slipped from his fingers when he saw Emma standing at the end of the stairwell, an unnatural aura of light glowing around her. All the blood in his body rushed to his loins, stiffening to an uncomfortable state. Everything in his mind told him to calm down, to get a hold of his thoughts. His legs willed him to stand and stalk gracefully over to where she was. It was quite amusing to see her long, black pearly hair all tossed around. A smile broke from her lips and her teeth gleamed in the shallow darkness. Erik cleared his throat and delivered an angelic phrase.

" You look much better, my dear. For a moment you had me worried."

" That would be a first, considering you always thought I could take care of myself." Emma teased, her voice weak from her rest.

" One is quite vulnerable in a state you were in. You still look quite pale, how about you sit down and I read you a book." Erik turned towards the couch.

Emma caught his shoulder and pressed lightly. " Erik, I want to apologize for the other night. I wasn't thinking about what I was doing. . . I was just so jealous of her and upset at you."

" Explanations come later, for now you need to rest some more. Come child, sit down while I get you some tea."

" Erik." But by the time she said that name, he was already in the kitchen setting up the tea kettle.

As Emma went to take a seat on the couch, she noticed something shine in the corner of the room. Curious, she walked over to the corner and found a beautiful, golden harp. It was glorious with its different colored strings and golden arch. She brushed her fingers along the strings, its texture rubbing against her skin. She smirked at the light sound the instrument produced. The girl jumped at the sudden contact of hands enfolding over her own. She was very surprised to find Erik standing behind her, his hands over hers. His chin rested lightly against her head and he began to hum a melody. Emma couldn't help but notice his strong arms and long musical fingers around hers. Never had he been like this, and she wished he was like this all the time. After a few minutes of playing a tune unknown to her, the man behind her spoke.

" My dear, you have to pluck them gracefully, never run your fingers over the strings." Erik whispered seductively. " Or it will slice your," Emma gasped at the slight twinge of pain in her hand. "Finger."

Her attention was quickly averted to the sweet song Erik was playing with their hands. His fingers carefully joined with hers as he moved gracefully over each string, all the while humming it. She felt her body glide closer and closer to the man behind her until finally she made contact.

Erik felt her back on his stomach and froze in surprise. He felt his hands instinctively encompass around her body, swaying back and forth to an invisible song. Emma's head rolled back in entrancement, the pleasurable song tickling her ears. She felt herself give in to his subliminal message, her longing for his touch growing stronger by the minute. But before anything could happen, Erik broke the embrace. With one hand still wrapped in hers, the ghost guided her to the couch and settled her with a heavy blanket. He handed her a cup of tea and picked up a book with rather new binding.

" This is book is called ' Far from the Madding Crowd' by Thomas Hardy." Erik read in a bold voice. Emma curled up beside him, her cheek nestled on his shoulder. After a quick yawn she was ready to listen.

He read with enthusiasm and created a different voice for each character. The story was of many loves, with true love turning to music. But with Emma sitting next to him fast asleep, he only managed to read to chapter two.

" 'The tune was not floating unhindered into the open air: it seemed muffled in some way, and was altogether too curtailed in power to spread high or wide. It came from the direction of a small dark object under the plantation hedge -- a shepherd's hut -- now presenting an outline to which an uninitiated person might have been puzzled to attach either meaning or use.' "

XXX

The sound of the siren going off jolted the couple from their pleasant slumber. Erik gently slid Emma off his side and walked towards the door. The girl on the couch continued to feign sleep for the sake of spying. She heard the door creak open, and a muffled voice spoke in secrecy.

" Antoinette, Meg? And what do I owe this most, _unexpected_ visit?" Erik questioned sardonically.

" Erik, this is serious. May we come in?"

" I suppose I have no other choice. Welcome to my humble abode." He bowed slightly and gracefully stuck out his arm to indicate the gallery.

" Meg told me a very interesting tale, that I believe you should hear. Where is the girl?"

" Asleep, and why might I ask this involve her?"

" Well Meg. . ." Meg gave her mother a quick glare. " I mean we believe that someone knows of your presence down here in the cellar, and the fact that you are well alive. Meg was talking with the new patron-"

" Hold your tongue for just a moment, let me put her down in her bedroom. Then we may continue this talk of yours."

Erik briskly turned on his heel and circled around the couch to where Emma was "asleep". He slipped his arms carefully under her back and knees, and easily picked her up into the his arms. He turned to the stairwell, walked down the stairs and into the darkness. The angel in his arms peeked one eye open and stared at the man who was carrying her. She slowly and stealthy leaned up and kissed the phantom on his neck. Erik stopped and looked down at the girl surprised. She smiled and returned back to her sleeping pose. He contemplated what had just happened, but couldn't figure it out.

Upon returning up from Emma's bedroom, Meg and her mother both looked frantic, wringing their hands and staring off into oblivion. Erik could feel the worry and anxiety grow in the atmosphere. With years of practice, the ghost slipped into the fireside chair and turned to face the Girys'.

" So, what is all this fuss about? Coming down here at ungodly hours and interrupting my rest."

" Meg could probably tell it better than I, for she was the primary source of the story. Meg?" The young ballerina looked from her mother to Erik, and back again. She cleared her throat and opened her mouth to begin her story.

Emma snuck up from the stairs, just barely out of sight of the group. She was intent on hearing this story that involves herself. She situated her body so that she could be comfortable on the stone steps.

" Well, the other day I was just getting done our practice, which I thought was too short, but I don't have a say in anything anymore!"

" Meghan Marie Giry! Enough of your whining!" Madame Giry instructed.

" Forgive me." She responded carelessly. " Well I ran into the Patron, and he was in a state of madness. His hair was all tossed around and his clothes were in disarray." Erik couldn't contain his chuckle. The Girys tried to nod it off. " I couldn't help but ask what was the matter. He stared at me for a moment or so then asked if I was the daughter of Madame Giry. I complied and as soon as I said so, he took me aside and warned me of a man so horrible, one that is torturing a beautiful woman that mother knew. He talked of a ghost who tried to kill him, with a face so horrible, it was unbearable to look at and it's-"

" Meg! Get on with the story." Madame ordered, casting a worried look over by Erik, who sat unfazed.

" Well he said that he was going to hunt for him in the cellars, with men armed with guns and knives. They were going to come down here to kill you. To save this girl of an unwanted life style."

Erik sat buried in the words Meg had spoken. Did Emma really dislike the lifestyle they have been sharing for some time now? Did she really hate him and try to grow a conspiracy against him in secrecy? There was only one way to find out.

" Pardon me while I go retrieve the girl from the room. Perhaps we can get some clarity of word by her mouth." Erik stated, and evil air surrounded the room.

" Erik, calm yourself now. There is no reason to scare the girl."

Emma had to sprint back to her room in order for her to go unnoticed. She kicked off her slippers and dove under the velvet blankets. A few moments later Erik had barged through the door and slammed it shut behind him. Emma shot up without much acting and caught sight of the frantic phantom gliding over to her. The look in his eyes was murderous and she knew nothing could be done to tame them.

" Get up woman, or so help me God I will yank you out of your sheets!" he growled between his teeth. Emma slipped out of bed and even before she could put on her robe, was grabbed at the wrists and face to face with the man she adored. " What did you tell him!?"

" Tell who? Tell what?"

" Don't play dumb with me girl! If you refuse to confess it just may cost you your life!" Emma gaped at the man, fear creeping into her bones for the first time since her arrival.

" It was an accident Erik!" Emma said, the look in her eye serene.

" There are no such things!"

" NO! I-"

" You were planning on revealing me weren't you! It was all just fake, everything!"

" NO!" Emma pleaded. " I didn't mean to do anything that would harm you. You should know that!"

" I don't know anything about you Emma! Only that there is a possibility I just might have to kill you."

Emma's knees gave out and she began to weep. The thought that Erik would be so angry as to kill her broke her heart completely. " I would never try to harm you, Erik. I . . ."

Erik grabbed her chin roughly and forced her face to his. " Spit it out, woman!" He ordered cruelly. When she didn't answer, he figured it was another lie of hers. He forced her to her feet and dragged her upstairs to where Meg and Antoinette sat. They stared frightened at the two, unable to think of anything that would stop the phantom.

" Erik, think logically of the situation. Let go of the girl, and try to talk about it."

Erik glared at the woman, but stopped to think about her words. He threw the traitor to the floor and took a heavy seat into his chair. " As you wish."

" Come girl, explain this nonsense."

" I was not trying to get Erik into trouble! I was simply trying to find someone to talk to. You should know how Erik gets after his tantrums. So I went to Tucker to talk about it and he said that he would keep the secret. You obviously know," Emma looked pointedly at Madame Giry and Meg. " So I thought it would be safe to tell-"

" Emma, dear, it is unsafe to tell anyone of Erik's presence. In any case you should have come to us! We would have listened to your complaints and shared our own stories of Erik's tantrums. The good lord knows we have a hefty amount. So how about you tell us what you told the patron and we'll see if we can clean up this mess."

" I only told him that I was living with a man who happened to be The Phantom of the Opera."

" So little information but such a powerful slip."

" Erik already found out that Tucker knows about him. He took care of the situation."

" I see. Well do we have any ideas on how to fix this?"

Emma looked over at Erik who was staring into the fire, anger creased across his face. Suddenly and idea came to her mind. " What if we, I mean me, convince him that I am happy. That I'm not living with the Phantom anymore."

" That is a good idea. Why don't you plan a lunch with him then everything will be alright. . ." The woman nervously glanced at the grandfather clock. "Well, it is late like you said, so we should get going. Are you going to be ok, Erik?" Silence was his solemn answer. Mother and daughter left abrubtly.

" Erik I didn't mean to cause any of this. It wasn't on purpose or a setup. I thought he would be alright with it. But I guess I'm wrong, again." Emma walked closer to the fireside chair, to find Erik still as a statue. She kneeled in front of him and laid her head on the couch arm. Tears slid down from her face and landed onto Erik's white sleeve. Without warning, Erik shot up from his seat and trudged downstairs. Emma stood up and stared at the stairwell, unable to figure out what he was doing. A moment later he returned with a rob at hand. He told her to put on her robe and slippers and to meet him at the front of the dock.

" Where are we going?" Emma questioned. She was answered by Erik's hand wrapping around her wrist once more. The girl began to panic. " Erik, please don't kick me out. I promise, no more mistakes or problems. In fact I won't even go outside anymore."

" Will you be silent!?" Erik reprimanded. " Tonight you will learn the real Erik, and it will be your choice if you wish to stay with him. If you choose not to, you will never see him again. Ever."

And so Erik forced Emma into the boat, secretly pitying the girl for what she is about to witness. But it is something she must know, must see in order to make her decision.


	19. The End of Fate

Chapter 19

Inside the mind of a Genius

She brought this on herself. I must keep telling myself this. She must learn that I am not whimsical, or lover material. She is too young to understand that if she decides to stay with me, she will be mine forever.

Even in purgatory.

All my adult life has been spent reading books on women and their emotional habits. Dreaming of one day possessing and yearning for a woman as much as she desires myself. I can see lust in her eyes, but there is no love. Just as Christine had lust in her eyes, it was empty of love. I am surprised she loves her husband. Ah, I have wandered back to her. Emma was right in that aspect of our argument; she is a child. Is Emma a child? Sure she may act young but what is her true age?

The bank of the lake came into view and my nerves began to twitch with anxiety. Truth be told it has been awhile since I have done anything like this. But the phrase is quite correct; old habits die hard. Actually, old habits never truly die, merely dwell under the skin until the chance of emission. How long has it been? A year? Five years? Ten years? Time has no meaning to me anymore, it has been that way for twenty-five years now. It is sad when one has been so out of life that he can not even recall his age.

The sand sunk beneath my weight as I climbed out of the boat. I dragged her along, trying desperately to keep myself in rage. This is an act that compassion must be pushed down below my heart. I could feel her rapid pulse between my finger tips, her blood swarming around in frenzy. Pure and innocent, just as Christine was. If she ever learned to love me, the instant our bodies would meet, her innocent blood would turn to poison, the shine in her eyes fog over until there was nothing left but a stalking corpse, a dying, informal bride. Maybe this wasn't the way to make her realize, maybe I should approach this matter more serenely. Perhaps, for once listen to Antoinette. She has been there from the beginning. My mind hardly collected I stopped our unending travel up. Emma rammed into me, her chin slamming into my back. It is now or never.

Her eyes searched mine for any form of emotion, digging deep into the pit of my mind to find any hidden piece of love. My eyes shifted away from the prying, and my feet carried us further up to the unexpected world. When we emerged from the tunnels, it was just as dark. The hallways were empty, only the dust and mold lingering. But deep inside the maze of dorms, I heard movement. With the girl trailing just behind me, I pulled her along more roughly than before, without a second thought. I didn't have to be mad at her to do this. There was too many layers of torment built up. It could wrap the world in a blanket of hate two times over.

We turned a few more hallways, until we reached a passage with faint light coming from it. I pulled Emma in front of me, covering my hand over her mouth to muffle her loud breathing. She began to fight against me, naturally when she realized what I was going to do. Peering over the end of the hall, there were three men, construction workers, still trying to repair damage from the fire. A surge of proudness swelled in my chest, finally something I've wanted actually came to. I slunk back into the enveloping darkness with the girl still tangled in my arms. I could smell the blend of eucalyptus and rose buds in her hair. My eyes closed, and for the third time, the thought of future regret tugged at my brain. At the climax of my plan, my plight, I am beginning to doubt this will help us at all. But she must see me, she must know all angles of me.

Breathing into her ear, I told her to be silent or it will cost me my life. My hand unraveled from her mouth, the warmth clinging to my fingers like a disease. Just as my foot stepped out from our hideaway, her arms encompassed my abdomen and forced me back. She hugged my chest, her arms embracing my whole self. Even when I tried to escape, she was still there never wanting to let go.

" You don't need to prove anything to me, Erik. I know you could kill someone. But that person is not who you are anymore. I know this, because I've witnessed this first hand. You saved me, taught me about life and true love. Don't end someone's life for the sake of me. It will only rip this to shreds whether you believe it will or not." She tried to persuade me, her hand tapping where a heart would be.

There is no heart there, only ice frozen solid and cold. A heart that refrains from hot lust and love, too afraid it will ruin it's stability. From what I have learned, love ruins you. But as I stood there, ready to kill a man who probably has a history, a wife, children of his own, Emma still clung to me, having faith in me, a monster. The warmth of her love began to seep into my skin, my blood began to boil with feeling. . .Feverishly, I began to scrape her hands off me. My heart was melting and soon the chance to show her would be gone, perished in a puddle of melted water.

I pushed her down to the ground, with a dull thud and at that exact moment, a construction worker was singled out, his co-workers off to sleep. I watched him do his work, covering for his friends who left him there with much more work than he could handle. His hands were cracked and blistered, his back arched from many years of slouching and his hair began to grow white. My feet were frozen to the ground, unable to free themselves. My eyes were locked onto the gold band on his finger, the gleam of kindness in his eyes. It was as if I was fascinated with him. My mind screamed at me helplessly, scolding me for my softness. It tried to make me jealous, which in a way only made me keep watching. Finally after at least a half an hour, the man packed his things and left. As he left, a cracked and withered picture fell from his pocket. It was of his three children, now grown with a life of their own.

As he disappeared around the corner, I was finally released by whatever held me back from my dirty deed. So that was how people felt when I gave them an order with my voice. It was horrible.

Anger fumed inside me, like bread rising in an oven. The heat of it suffocated me, choking my grasp on reality. What have I turned in to!? I felt my fingers coil into tight fists at my sides and I began to pace like a caged animal. I turned to the wall, tears streaming down my already sodden face and perforated the wall several times with my demon hands. This girl had changed me, my own mind blind to her subliminal healing. The Phantom of the Opera has been torn to pieces by a beautiful, smart, lovely girl who would love him. He is no longer able to kill at will, unable to give a second glance to his victim before wiping them off the surface of the world.

My knees gave way, and my eyes opened up. My hands cradled my head, the truth streaming in, very unwelcome but unstoppable. Emma was right, I had changed whether I liked it or not.

X X X

Inside her head.

I sat on the ground, my heart too sore and my body too stiff to even try to fight him. I attempted to conquer this fever with love. It had failed miserably, what else was I expecting; a miracle!? Miracles are for God, not someone who was born in New York. It was obvious I couldn't stop him, it would mean the end of his life. I would have to spare his life for another's. I began to cry when he stepped out of the shadow. They were silent and unending, the type that make your head spin with pain. But as I opened my eyes, he was still standing their, staring in awe at something. At first I thought my eyes were deceiving me from the tears, but he was still there. I stared at his figure, staring at something that obviously shocked him.

An eternity passed until he collapsed to the ground, in a heap. I crawled over to him, and cradled his head in my arms, coaxing him like a mother would to an upset child. He rocked back and forth, his pain too fierce to stand still. He finally realized what I was telling him, finally realized that he can be that person as well. He spared a mans life, and now he is feeling all the effects. I forced him to his feet, both of us staggering under the pressure of our weight. He pulled himself together, slowly as we walked down the hallway. We walked in a respectful silence.

I wondered what my life would be like right now if I had never met Erik, never met Laramie or found that ring. How I would end up? If I would still be that child stuck in an adults body. If I would still be with my aunt and uncle. Would I have a job? What would my love life be like? Would I know what love means? Would I know how to love a broken soul? Would I even be alive, or would I commit suicide?

I clasped his hand in mine, he too tired to fight my hold. And did I feel a little pressure on his part, did he respond with a light squeeze? Once I saw he was quite sane, I stopped him. He looked at me confused and scared at the same time.

" You have changed."

" Do not think that. Perhaps I have just reached the brink of sanity. It will pass over, so do not expect this to last. And I want to let you know, you can still stay with me if you wish. I don't think I can live without you anymore Emma."

My heart felt like it filled with helium as his words dissolved in the air. I could tell he wasn't in love with me completely. But I knew he had some feelings for me, and that was enough for me to live off of, for now.


End file.
